Frozen
by Lee Mente
Summary: When Spock is almost killed in a shuttle accident and the only way to save his sanity is to initiate a deep mind meld with Kirk, how will their world ever go back to normal?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Look, I don't own Star Trek, though I wish I did own Patrick Stewart. The only thing I own is my own little version of it. :) If you have any preconceived notions about Spock and Kirk, you'd better not read this. I plan on making them a couple. And not just two, I mean.... COUPLE.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

* * *

Desperately, the tall figure in the black and red environmental suit trudged forward. His arms were wrapped around his chest, trying to hold whatever warmth he could into his half frozen body. The wind howled, ripping at the short, ebony strands of hair that offered no insulation against their bitterly cold teeth. The pale skin that was illuminated by the twin moons of the desolate planet had a slightly bluish tinge to it as the temperature dropped even farther.

Glancing behind himself, the figure sighed wearily at the long skid mark that his former shuttle had left. There was a hint of smoke still rising from the wreckage of the small craft, but the figure knew from experience that there wasn't even the hint of warmth in it's carcass. The only hope there was on this desolate rock was the system of caves that he'd picked up on his sensors a meager forty kilometers away.

The mountains loomed large in front of him as he pushed himself to the limits of his endurance. The blood running through his veins felt like it was getting sluggish, his physiology not having been made to withstand the bitter cold. Squinting against the blowing wind, he tried to make out the entrance to the caves, having traveled ten kilometers already.

When he raised his hand to help block the snow, he tripped on a protruding piece of ice and landed heavily in the snow. Seemingly of it's own accord, his face burrowed in the snow, seeking any respite from the wind that continued to rip and tear at his sensitive flesh. Panting, he allowed himself a moment to contemplate the irony of the situation.

It had only been a short while ago that he'd marooned another officer on such an inhospitable planet as this one. The memory of that human's face floated before his eyes. He closed the lids as tears of pain and humiliation burned through the cracks until they started to run down his cheeks, freezing the instant that they hit the air until his lashes froze to the tender skin underneath his eyes.

Shuddering uncontrollably, the tall officer shivered and shuddered as his hearing started to narrow until there was no more wind. It was peaceful once he lost all feeling in his body. He knew that he was dying, but a small part of himself refused to accept it. The little voice in the back of his mind that sounded like his father reminded him that suicide was an illogical course of action. That laying here in the snow was getting him no where, and that he should get up, move on, and report his findings to Starfleet.

Unfortunately, his body didn't take orders from his mind anymore. The hypothermia had started, and he was starting to find it hard to peice things together in his mind. He thought about all of the things that had made his life the way it was, dwelling on the one thing that he'd never figured out.

James Tiberius Kirk.

The man was an enigma, wrapped in a puzzle, hidden inside of a maze. Why he did the things that he did, the illogical, maddening things that he decided to do on a whim all seemed to turn out right in the end. It had always driven him to distraction the way he seemed to walk into a room and command the attention of everyone in it. That human was unique, and more than a little irritating.

Too bad he'd never have the chance to figure him out.

Strong, warm hands pulled him up and out of the frozen liquid that he'd been buried in. He heard the muffled, distant voice that he was sure that he should know. He felt it as he was moved, the frozen air pulled at his lungs, making the already frost bitten tissue convulse. When his breath started to hack, it brought more cold air into his lungs. Without the somewhat dubious protection of the snow, the subzero air of the planet's surface was slowly freezing him from the inside out.

A large rubber mask was laid over his face, sealing into place with a whoosh. Luke warm air washed over his face like a heat wave, warming the tissue with a tingle. The battered officer sucked in the warm air, coughing painfully as his lung tissue rejoiced in the warm air. He tried to open his eyes but they were still frozen shut, the tears that had come when he'd finally given up still sealing the delicate tissue shut.

He heard the distant metal clang of a hatch opening and a wave of heat washed over him before there were more hands on his body, pulling off the environmental suit that had failed been destroyed by the crash. Hot air washed over him, making his skin burn. He groaned softly, his jaw clenching as he felt his muscles twitch like they were trying to crawl out of his skin.

It felt like he was burning in his own personal hell.

"Hold him down, damnnit!" a cultured southern voice commanded as he was pressed into the scratchy surface underneath him.

His breath hissed out as the hypo was pressed into his neck, easing the pain almost immediately. He groaned as he slumped to the flat surface underneath him. He fought his body as his mind tried to shut it down and enter the healing sleep of his people.

"Just let go, Spock. I'm here," came a familiar, deep voice from next to my ear. "I promise I won't leave you. You're safe."

A warm, bare hand brushed over my forehead bringing a strong, vital mind into contact with his own. The thoughts and emotions that were swirling in the alien mind were mostly of concern. There was something buried beneath the surface, though, and his natural curiosity wouldn't let it go. He stalked it deeper into the mind, pushing past the normal boundaries that his people tried and trained to respect in others.

"What's happening?" the deep voice whispered, the hand that was connected to my skin convulsing slightly.

"Jim!" the accented voice said, shock thick in it's tone.

The ebony haired man on the table heard panting before the familiar, welcome voice replied slightly stronger. "It's alright, Bones. I can feel him in my mind. It's okay," the voice of someone that he'd just become tentative friends with replied before the hand that had been pulling away from his cold skin was pressed more firmly against the chill flesh. "Hang on, Spock, just hang on. I'm not going to let you die on me. Not now. Live, damn you, live."

Somehow, that voice penetrated the despair that had been welling in the frozen man and made his heart beat stronger. The pale body gave a hard shudder as it was pushed over on the bed and another body was pressed against it's back, bringing heat with it. As more flesh was pressed against his, he groaned softly with a mixture of pain and pleasure as the heat of the body began raising the temperature of his body.

"Bones, get us the hell off this rock. I'll keep him warm," the deep voice rumbled from behind him as he felt warm arms wrap around his waist and pull a blanket up over his shoulders.

'Thank you,' he thought silently before his body sagged and he passed out.

* * *

Chapter one of my new story is up! Yay me! hehe Let me know what you think. Reviews, positive and negative, make the world go round, so review away.

Lee


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Look, I don't own Star Trek, though I wish I did own Patrick Stewart. The only thing I own is my own little version of it. :) If you have any preconceived notions about Spock and Kirk, you'd better not read this. I plan on making them a couple. And not just two, I mean.... COUPLE.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

* * *

_Two weeks earlier_

Newly minted Captain James T. Kirk strode down the hallways of Starfleet command, grinning and winking at all of the young ladies that he saw. He turned and wiggled his eyebrows almost commically at one particularly attractive raven haired woman. She rolled her eyes at him and kept walking, tossing her long hair over her shoulder and sending a whiff of Orion pheramones his way.

Grinning, Kirk turned to look at the stoic figure of his first officer, reaching out to slap the slightly taller man on the shoulder. "Come on, Spock, lighten up! It's a beautiful day, we've saved the Federation, and you're not dead. Enjoy the day!" he said jovially, holding his arms open to encompass the whole compound.

The tall Vulcan rose one elegantly slanted eyebrow as he observed the antics of his companion. With an infinitesimal shake of his head, he looked forward again. "As I have told you twice already today, I am enjoying the day. I do not feel it necessary, however, to make such amorous displays," he replied stiffly, reaching for the handle of the door that lead to the inner chambers of Starfleet.

Rolling his eyes and sighing loudly, Kirk followed the Vulcan into the room full of Admirals. "You could have fooled me," he muttered, glancing over at Spock's askance glance.

A tall, stately black man motioned the two officers to an empty conference table. He gave them a nod of recognition before he turned back to a console and manipulated a few controls. As the two officers took their seats, he lit up one of the screens on the wall to their right.

"This is a depiction of our ships and resources as of now," he began without preamble. "As you can see, Nero's attack did far worse damage than we could have imagined. The loss of those ships was cripling to our fleet. Now we're getting word that there might be a Klingon fleet hiding in the Codian system. It's remote, but it needs to be investigated."

Blinking, Kirk sat forward slightly and rested his hands on the table top. "Excuse me, Admiral, but wouldn't the Enterprise better serve Starfleet if we were posted to the front lines?" he asked, his tone just barely bordering on insubordination.

The Admiral rose his eyebrows as his comrads looked back and forth between themselves.

It was Admiral Pike who shook his head and leaned forward. "Look, Kirk, your crew has proven themselves more than capable of handing themselves in a combat situation, but you have to give them a chance to have a shakedown cruise. Besides, you're one of the only ships that we can send out there without an escort that's not occupying a key position on the front lines. If you think you're not capable of taking care of one simple fleet of Klingons, let me know. I'm sure there are other Captains out there chomping at the bit to get out there and prove themselves," the crippled man said, leaning back in his chair and shrugging nonchalantly.

At the implied challenge, Kirk's eyes narrowed and he folded his hands together to keep them from balling into fists. His blue eyes snapped with challenge as his lips pursed slightly.

When he man was just about to reply to the Admeral, Spock inclined his head. "We will retrieve the necessary intelligence, Admirals. If you'll excuse us, we shall recall the crew and begin making the preparations for our journey," the Vulcan cut in smoothly, standing and resting a hand on the cloth of his Captain's shoulder. With the closer contact, he could feel the anger and irritation rolling off of the man that was supposed to be in charge of him and he mentally sighed. His captain was like a young Vulcan child, all wild emotions and no control over themselves.

At the thought of his master's expressions as they beheld the fully grown male practically dancing in place as they waited for the transporter pad to be cleared, he had a brief flash of amusement followed by a ripple of pain and sorrow. He would never be able to compare his Captain to the Vulcan masters of his youth. He'd never be able to study on the buring sands of his home planet again.

It was gone.

He pushed the anguish back as he walked sedately down the corridor, concentrating on his gait, his breathing, the sounds of the compound that his acute Vulcan hearing detected. His face remained impassive as he kept his heart rate steady. Spock was so caught up in his emotional control that he didn't notice when the human male next to him stopped and started to say something to him. He didn't notice anything until the man grabbed his hand.

A burst of emotion rippled over him as he came into contact with the human's skin. Kirk was what he refered to as a 'loud broadcaster'. All of the human's emotions were close to the surface, and therefore easier for his race, being touch telepathic, to overhear when they were touched. Concern washed over him before he pulled his hand away. "My apologies, Captain," he said, turning and looking at the sandy haired man. "If you would repeat that?"

Kirk's eyes narrowed on the Vulcan as he studied him intently. The intelligence that the man normally hid behind his playboy exterior pushed to the forefront as he analyzed the alien in front of him. "Never mind that, Spock. Are you sure you're up for this? I'm sure we could delay this a few days, let you have a little time to yourself," he said quietly, stepping to the side of the corridor as a yeoman with a data padd hustled past towards the admiral's chamber.

Spock rose an eyebrow, slightly uncomfortable at being held under such close scrutiny that the man didn't even glance at the slightly attractive blonde's rear end. "I assure you, Captain, that I am fit for duty in every respect," he replied calmly, forcing the nervous twitch that wanted to start up in his jaw to subside before it had a chance to blossom. He would never shame his race by letting anyone outside of his immediate family know of his grief.

It just wasn't the Vulcan way.

Kirk stared at him for a few more seconds before he nodded, seemingly appeased with what he saw there. He clapped the tall Vulcan on the shoulder before he grinned at him. "Come on, Spock, we've got some shore leave to ruin," he said as a mischievous twinkle glittered in his eyes.

* * *

The Captain paced the bridge as they came up to the planet, his inveterate first officer was as he always was. Hunched over the science station.

"What does the readout say, Spock?" he asked, drumming his fingers on the back of his chair and staring at the immovable first officer.

Taking a deep breath, the Vulcan kept his face impassive as he looked back at the Captain. "It says the same thing that it said forty four point three minutes ago," he replied, his voice neutral.

Our of the corner of his eye, he saw Uhura roll her eyes as Chekov and Sulu glanced back and forth between each other, smiling broadly at the Captain's antics. He was like a three year old trapped in the back of a car, asking over and over when they were supposed to get there. Spock's patience were legendary, but even they were wearing thin at the Captain's constant questioning.

Kirk sighed softly as an attractive Yeoman handed him a padd to sign. He blinked as he saw the supplies that his Chief Engineer requested, but signed it anyways. He tried not to ask about what Scotty wanted, trusting the Scotsman not to blow up his ship. He just hoped that the peanut butter wasn't for his personal use, otherwise the man was going to be in big trouble with the mess hall.

After four more hours of fruitless scanning, Spock blinked when a hand was rested on his shoulder and he felt the brush of a familiar psyche against his own. "May I see you for a moment, Commander?" Uhura asked softly, her ponytail swinging as she tilted her head.

"Of course, Lieutenant. I believe that we're both due for lunch anyways," he replied, standing and moving towards the lift. Once the doors were shut, he turned to the young lady and looked at her expectantly, keeping his face carefully neutral.

Once they were in the elevator and headed towards deck three where the cafeteria was, the dark skinned communications officer turned and slapped a control on the lift. Her face was flat, but Spock could see the emotions swirling beneath the surface of her beautiful eyes. She crossed her arms underneath her well defined chest and cocked one of her hips out in angry defiance. "Why have you been avoiding me, Spock?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.

Spock took a deep, silent breath as he stared at the woman that he'd been seeing for over a year now. "I haven't been avoiding you. I've been rather busy with the memorial service for my mother as well as numerous Fleet duties," he replied, clasping his hands behind his back and staring her in the eye. It was true, up to a point. He had been rather busy. His mother's memorial service had put a huge strain on him, though, and he hadn't wanted to have to hide his grief from the very observant woman.

Her face softened as she continued to look at the tall man. "Spock, why didn't you tell me? I could have helped," she said, reaching out towards him.

As much as he wanted to feel the comfort of another's touch, he pulled back, not wanting to be bombarded by her rampant emotions. "I am sorry, Nyota. Please allow me to grieve in my own way," he replied to the hurt look on her face. "It would be better if you and I didn't see each other for a while."

When he saw her draw back, he felt regret for the harshness of his words, but he didn't have much patience for anything else. His normal calm wouldn't work on the Lieutenant. She was far to sensitive to his moods already, having studied him for years before he'd finally assented to starting a relationship with her. He remembered the look of happiness on his mother's face when he'd messaged her and told her about his new love interest. She'd been excited that he'd finally found someone that he could relate to and share his private time with.

The thoughts of his mother abruptly stopped, though, as Uhura reached out and rested her hand on his arm. "Okay, Spock. I understand," she said, the pain in her eyes belaying her statement. He could sense the upset rippling through her, and his mind cringed back instinctively from the pain that her emotions were sending through him. "I can wait."

"Thank you, Niyota," he replied softly, inclining his head to her as he pushed the button that would set the lift into motion once again.

When they got to the mess hall, he sat across the table from her, trying to relax enough to enjoy their discussion on her favorite subject. Xenolinguistics. He tried an obscure Romulan dialect, and she seemed to concentrate on him harder, her acute hearing picking up the difference in his tones. He watched her mind analyze, feeling a hint of pride in the woman. He'd been her teacher before he'd been her lover, and she had been his brightest student.

After he finished with lunch, he took his tray to the recyclers, dumping his mostly untouched meal into it and heading back to the bridge, unaware that Uhura was watching him with sad, worried eyes as he walked away.

* * *

"Captain? I believe that I have something," the Vulcan's crisp, accurate tones effectively cut through all of the ambient noise in the bridge. He turned in his chair to look back at the Captain, his dark eyes focusing in on the sandy-haired man instantly.

Kirk looked up from the data padd he was reading when his first officer called his name. He made his way over to the science station, looking down at the instrument panel and tilting his head at the readings that were flowing across the screen. "What do we have here, Mr. Spock?" he asked, resting a hand on the back of the Vulcan's chair as he leaned closer to the screen to better see the readings that were coming in. His mind analyzed them quickly, a frown pulling down the edges of his mouth as he stared at the findings.

Spock leaned forward slightly to get away from the touch on the back of his chair, slightly irritated that human's were such touchie people. "I believe this planet, on the edge of the solar system, is a prime candidate for our search. It's magnetic field is erratic, but it's the best possibility that we've found so far," he said quietly, looking up at the man and starting slightly at his nearness.

Nodding, Kirk looked the instruments over. "It's a little bit farther out of our course than we could justify for such faint readings, Spock," he replied, his eyes narrowing as he saw the scanners interrupted again with a flux of the planet's magnetic field. "Besides, flying the Enterprise near that soup would be a risk that I just couldn't take with us this far out."

Blinking at the Captain's sudden reticence to throw himself headlong into danger, Spock shook his head. "If you don't mind, Captain, I would like to take the Keplar out to investigate this further," he replied, keeping his face neutral as Kirk straightened and studied his Vulcan first officer.

Nodding, Kirk kept up his intense scrutiny of the man. "Alright, Spock. We'll swing by that outer asteroid ring to drop you off before we head out to check the planets closer to the sun. Are you sure that you're up for this kind of duty?" he replied, his instincts warning him that this was a bad idea.

Raising an eyebrow, the Vulcan stared impassively back at his captain. "I assure you, Captain Kirk, that I am a well qualified pilot," he said, standing from the chair that he'd been in for the past three hours. "If you'll excuse me, I'll begin the preparations for the survey mission."

As the Vulcan was leaving the bridge, Kirk looked after him with narrowed eyes, his full lips pursing in slight agitation. He knew this was a bad idea. "Spock," he called after the retreating Vulcan just before the doors to the lift shut. "Let Mr. Sulu accompany you. With those magnetic fields, it'd be good to have a second set of hands on the helm."

The Vulcan's spine straightened slightly as he stared at the captain. "I assure you, Captain, that I am more than capable of piloting my own ship," he said as the doors shut and he started towards the hanger bay.

* * *

Slowly, the Vulcan eased the shuttle into a low orbit around the northern hemisphere of the icy planet. Keeping a wary eye on the heavy magnetic field of the planet, he started the scans, his long, elegant fingers flying over the familiar console in a pattern that he could do in his sleep by now. The familiar patterns of scanning and flying eased his tense muscles, and the Vulcan relaxed back into his seat, relishing the privacy that the small craft offered him.

A sudden alarm blared to life on the console, pulling him out of the revive that he'd been sinking into. He flipped switches rapidly as the autopilot failed and the ship began to go into a violent nosedive towards the frozen planet below. He struggled with the controls, trying to bring the ship's manual controls on. He was thrown back into his seat as the ship's thrusters tried to counter the pull of the planet's gravity well.

"Spock to Enterprise," he called into the communications system, knowing that he was out of comm range. "Enterprise, please come in." He tried everything he could to pull the ship out of it's spin, failing.

With one last desperate sequence of commands, the ship leveled out somewhat, but the Vulcan knew that he was going to crash. He launched his distress beacon, hoping that it would gain enough height to break through the interference that the planet was putting out. "Mayday, mayday," he called into the comm as the Keplar picked up speed the closer it got to the planet's surface. "This is Commander Spock of the starship Enterprise. I've lost navigational control and am going down. Repeat, this is Commander Spock of the starship Enterprise. I've lost all navigational control and am crash landing on Codian IV."

As static greeted his words, Spock dove to the back of the shuttle. He used his superior Vulcan strength to pry open the hatch for the environmental suits, knowing that the frozen temperatures on the planet would kill him faster than the crash landing. Quickly, he pulled on the suit and was just struggling into the helmet when the ship bounced off a large, flat plateau of ice.

* * *

There we go! Chapter 2 up and running! Let me know what you think. I'm a sucker for a review. =P I'd like to thank Kitty for the wonderful help with the dialog in this chapter. She's always very supportive of my dribble. Thanks, Kitty!

Lee


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Look, I don't own Star Trek, though I wish I did own Patrick Stewart. The only thing I own is my own little version of it. :) If you have any preconceived notions about Spock and Kirk, you'd better not read this. I plan on making them a couple. And not just two, I mean.... COUPLE.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

* * *

Chapter 3:

"Mother?" Spock asked, his bright intelligent eyes blinking up at his mother.

"Yes, Spock?" the human woman replied, a smile hovering at the edges of her lips as she looked up from where she'd been translating the poetry of a long dead Vulcan master.

Spock's eyebrows drew together in concentration as he frowned slightly. "Why does Father dislike me?" he asked, tilting his head and looking to his warm and caring mother.

Taking a deep breath, his mother slipped off her chair and knelt in front of her son. She grabbed both of his hands in her own and held them tightly, sending the love and pride that she was experiencing towards her only child. Spock tilted his head as he felt the hint of anger burning underneath the love that she had for him. "Spock," she said quietly, staring into her son's beautiful eyes. "It's not that your father doesn't like you, honey, it's just that he doesn't show things the same way that everyone else does. He's a Vulcan." She said the last with resignation, as if it explained his father's transgressions.

"But I'm Vulcan too," the young Spock said, blinking away the tears that he knew would shame him deeply. "And I don't understand why."

Amanda's blue eyes deepened with sorrow before she pulled her son into a tight hug. "No matter what happens, Spock, I'll always love you," she said, burying her face in her child's neck to hide the tears that were slipping down her cheeks.

* * *

Spock groaned softly as he tried to roll off of the surface that he was on. It was scratchy on his naked skin, completely unlike the sheets that were on the bunk in his quarters. He winced as the restraints around his beaten and bruised body tightened, forcing a wet, hacking cough to escape his lips. He felt the push of an unfamiliar mind against his own and tried to cringe away from it. When he realized that he couldn't force the emotions back, he gave a soft whimper.

The restraints around his upper body tightened slightly, pulling him back against a firm, strong chest. "Spock, it's Jim. You need to hold still. We're almost back to the Enterprise. I need you to hold on for a little bit longer. I know you're scared," he said quietly, his hot breath blowing along Spock's sensitive earlobe as he spoke.

Swallowing painfully, Spock tried to open his eyes, but when he managed to pry open his swollen lids, he shut them tightly against the bright lights of the shuttle's bay. He tried to shift away from Kirk's body, not comfortable with the intimacy of their minds. In his weakened state, he couldn't maintain the shields that normally kept his mind safe from the outside world. "Please let me go," he asked quietly, his normally smooth voice rough with the trauma of the past few hours.

The sandy-haired man shook his head causing the silky locks of hair to brush across the back of Spock's neck. "Sorry, Spock, but you and I are stuck together for a little bit longer. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your bunny tattoo," he teased, the humor in his voice masking the deep concern that was radiating from his mind.

A flash of a woman's face brushed past Spock's mind, followed by the sound of happy, warm laughter. Spock sucked in a breath as he realized that the woman in the memory wasn't someone that he remembered from his own life. It was someone from Kirk's. The harder he tried to fight against the bonding of their two minds, though, the more weak he became. "No," he whispered, shivering violently before Kirk's strong arms pulled him closer to the warmth of the human's body.

The slighty lower than Vulcan normal body temperature radiation from the man helped to thaw him slightly as he felt the ship buck and rock with the violent magnetic pulses of the planet. He heard Kirk's voice calling out from the back, the words growing more indistinct as sleep sucked him under. He pushed towards the blackness, his mind not willing to accept what had just happened.

* * *

Voices pushed into Spock's dreams, forcing him to wake. He felt intense foreign worry pulse at his mind, causing a frown line to appear between his eyebrows against his will. He blinked open his eyes, the bright lights of the medical bay assaulting his sensitive retinas. He immediately closed them, blocking out the offensive light. The Vulcan tried to raise his hand to cover his eyes, but found it pinned down under the weight of a warm, calloused palm.

"Bones, he's coming to," Kirk called softly, leaning slightly closer to the Vulcan. "Spock, can you hear me?"

The doctor pushed the two apart, waving a scanner in front of Spock's face and down his body. "I was beginning to think that he wasn't ever going to come out of it. He's been down for three days," the southern man grumbled, punching a few buttons on his tricorder. "Damn Vulcan physiology. Can't make heads or tales of this mess."

Spock tried to lick his lips, but it felt like his tounge was coated with sand. He heard the doctor moving away and then back with a different scanner. Irritation flashed through him as the scanner was waved over him again. The mind that was connected with his own pulsed with a matching impatience, pushing his own emotions closer to the surface of his mind.

Futilely, he tried to break the contact between the captain's palm and his hand, but his body was still very weak. He tried to clear his throat, inwardly wincing as the dry walls of his esophagus rubbed together. He forced his eyes to open, blinking them rapidly to bring the room into focus. By sheer will, he turned his head to look at the doctor. "Water," he rasped, his voice no more than a whisper of sound amid the hustle and bustle of the busy medical bay.

McCoy scowled down at the Vulcan, his eyes narrowed. "Hold your ponies. You'll get something to drink when I'm finished scanning," he replied, frowning down at the readings on his tricorder. He punched a few more buttons before he waved the scanner again, trying to get a bead on Spock's vitals.

A flash of intense irritation flashed against Spock's mind as the Captain's hand tightened on his own. Spock's eyelids fluttered for a second, trying to close before he forced them open again. He refused to allow himself to show any more weakness in front of his shipmates than he already was. His pride wouldn't let him fold. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head and looked over at the Captain, blinking as he saw the man's blank face.

"Captain, I assure you that I'll be able safely consume water," he said to the hovering man.

Kirk looked at Bones before he released Spock's hand, cutting off the frustration that had been pushing at Spock. When he was able to clear his head of all the alien emotions, the Vulcan realized that the Captain was more frustrated with his impotence than anything else. The sandy haired man was used to knowing what to do, but in this situation, there was nothing else that he could do.

Without the Captain's hand in his own, Spock began to feel weaker, his vitals dropping noticably. The machines above his head beeped angrily as the aches and pains that the Vulcan had been keeping in check with his mental disciplines came back with a vengeance. Spock felt his body begin to twitch, small jerks at first before they became more and more noticeable.

"He's seizing! Nurse, I need the Aprovaline stat!" McCoy called, trying to keep Spock from rolling off the table.

Strong, warm hands wrapped around the bare skin of Spock's left arm, washing the Vulcan's mind in a flurry of confusion and worry. The touch bolstered Spock's mental barriers enough for the Vulcan to fight his weakening system. His body twitched one last time before it subsided, slumping down to the table just as McCoy's nurse appeared with the requested injection.

"What the hell was that?" Kirk asked, his voice slightly agitated as he helped to roll Spock onto his back.

"I've been trying for hours to get a hold of the Vulcan healers, but they still haven't been able to cut through all of this damn interference," he grumbled, his eyebrows drawing worried lines above his eyes as he stared at his unusual patient. "What I know about Vulcan physiology could fill a teacup. Their health is so damn steeped in mysticism that you can barely tell where the science begins and the religion ends."

Spock's breath was ragged as he forced his eyes to open, looking over at the Captain. "Water, please," he rasped out, trying to lick his cracked lips.

The sandy haired man stared back at him for a few seconds before he raised a small straw to the Vulcan's lips. When the doctor started to protest, Jim shot him a quelling look. "Look, Bones your best sorce for Vulcan ailments is right on this table. Spock's all we've got for the time being. Let's get him to the point that he can talk, then he can tell us how to take care of the situation," he said, his voice stee0ly as he watched Spock suck the water slowly through the straw.

After a few sips, Spock released the straw. "Thank you," he said, his voice stronger, but still slightly raspy. He looked back to the doctor, a shudder rolling through him as his body protested it's abuse. Absently, he pushed back the Captain's mind as it fluttered with worry. "What is the extent of my injuries?" he asked, trying to relax against the stiff mattress.

Crossing his arms over his chest, McCoy stared down at his patient. "You were half gone when we found you on that damn frozen were deep in shock. Most people wouldn't have survived it, but lucky for you, the Captain here remembered his survival courses well. We got you slowly warmed up, and I'm pretty sure that you're going to be able to keep all of your fingers and toes," he said, waving a hand over the Vulcan's body. "If we can get your vitals to stabilize, you just might live."

Spock took a breath before he nodded. "I thought as much," he replied stoically, his mind analyzing the possibilities to keep himself from feeling the panic that he knew was threatening to overwhelm him. "Doctor, I believe the only thing to do in my present condition is to push fluids. If I'm able to wake, the damage may not be as extensive as it seems," he replied, keeping his voice calm even as he felt his stomach twist into knots. The possibility of loosing his hands and feet had been a real one, and it still worried him. His feet he could live without, but his hands were his life.

McCoy rose an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked, scowling slightly. "What makes you think that?"

The Vulcan blinked up at the Doctor as the Captain's thumb began rubbing gently over the soft skin on the inside of his arm. "Because, Doctor, if I was going to die, I would have done so already," he rasped, looking over at the hand that was stroking gently over his arm. He felt something slip through his barriers the weaker they became. The Captain's blue eyes blazed down into his own, willing him to get better by sheer force of will.

"Well," the doctor replied, hooking an IV up to the man. "You may not have died, but you will get some more sleep." With that, the sothern man slapped a hypo against his neck and he felt his grasp on reality slide away.

* * *

Spock eased his way around the hovering Captain and into his quarters. He'd spent a week in the medical bay before the doctor had released him with strict orders to stay in bed. With an internal sigh of frustration at his weakened state, he walked slowly over to the couch that sat in the middle of his spartan room and looked back at the sandy haired man that had fussed over him the entire way back here.

"Captain, I assure you that I'm not going to drop dead," the Vulcan said dryly, adjusting himself in his seat so that he could ease the ache that was coming from his bruised ribs.

The man shifted nervously a few feet away from the couch, moving from foot to foot. "Just making sure," he said. "Is there anything that I can get for you? A book, holo-movie, anything?"

Shaking his head, the Vulcan looked away from the human man. "Captain, I never got the chance to thank you for what you did on the shuttle," he said, uncomfortable with the knowledge that he'd had to rely on the sandy-haired man for assistance.

With a shrug, the Captain gave his first officer a cocky grin. "It wasn't anything big. If you kicked off, I'd have to find and break in another first officer," he replied nonchalantly, reaching out and gently cuffing Spock's shoulder.

When his hand came into contact with the Vulcan's cloth covered shoulder, the ebony haired man blinked over at his commanding officer. "Captain," he began, stopping when he saw the look in the man's eyes. For some reason, he held his tongue.

"I'll be back later to check on you later," the Captain said, standing and heading for the door. "Don't be afraid to give me a hollar if you need something."

Spock nodded, and when the man left his room, he let his head thump back against the cushions of the couch. He took a deep breath, forcing his ribs to expand even though they didn't want to. The pain distracted him, taking his mind away from the discussion that he knew that he was going to have to have with the sandy-haired man.

The Vulcan sighed, feeling the very faint brush of emotions against his mind that weren't his own. They were the Captain's.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thank you to everyone who put my story on their alerts or reviewed! I love reviews, they help to let me know that real people are reading this, so push the button, good, bad or indifferent, and let me know what you think. =P

On a separate note, I am looking for someone to Beta this story for me. If you're interested, PM me and let me know. :) Thanks!

Lee


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Look, I don't own Star Trek, though I wish I did own Patrick Stewart. The only thing I own is my own little version of it. :) If you have any preconceived notions about Spock and Kirk, you'd better not read this. I plan on making them a couple. And not just two, I mean.... COUPLE.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

* * *

Warm, moist breath panted in his ear, a soft moan breaking the harsh pattern of breathing. Limbs twined around his waist, urging him onward as he thrust his hips harder to meet the frantic pace that was being set. Small, delicate fingernail raked down his back as a low, throaty moan rang in his ears. "Oh, God," the sultry voice of a woman panted in his ear.

He felt the turmoil of emotions burn through him as he fought them back. He groaned, leaning down and biting the soft skin of the neck underneath him. When he heard the whimper of half pain, half pleasure that was ripped from the body underneath him, he pushed away the feelings that welled up. He moved faster, blocking out the demons that ripped at his soul as he strove towards climax.

With a loud moan, his partner climaxed, clenching the muscles of her legs around her waist to try to keep him there longer. Giving a soft growl, he reached back and grabbed her thighs in his strong hands, prying the long limbs away from his body so that he could move.

As he lost himself in the pleasure of her supple, willing body, the man tried to ignore the emptiness that was growing inside of him. He felt a bead of sweat slide down his chest as his body tensed. His spine bowed with pleasure even as his mind cried with the pain that couldn't be assuaged, no matter how many hours he spent entwined with others.

He'd never be whole, and James Tiberius Kirk knew it.

* * *

Spock woke, panting, clutching at the sheets of his bed. He could still feel the woman's breath on his neck, and the softness of her body under his. He reached up and clutched at his chest, trying to soothe the pain that still left a hollow ache there. He gasped, feeling his mind burn with the unfamiliar, alien emotions of the Captain.

Before he could think twice, he threw the covers off of his legs and grabbed the first piece of clothing that he could pull on, a traditional brown Vulcan robe with gold lettering down the front of it that denoted his lineage. Hastily, he buttoned the garment, driven by the instinctive need to seek out the man bonded to him to ease the ache that he could feel through the man's emotions.

He strode down the halls of the ship, his remarkable memory guiding him towards the Captain's quarters. Taking a deep breath, he ignored a slightly rumpled looking yeoman as she made her way down the hallway, a slightly dazed look on her face. Spock blocked out the feelings of jealousy that were creeping into his mind.

He paused outside the Captain's door, confusion pulsing through his mind even as he felt the Captain's guilt through their bond. Trying to analyze his feelings, Spock pursed his lips, his normally inscrutable expression failing him as he realized that he was jealous of a woman that meant nothing to the human. She hadn't ment anything except a physical release, yet illogically, Spock still envied her her few moments of the man's affection.

The Vulcan slowly rose his hand, pushing the buzzer to the Captain's quarters. He pushed back the emotions that were raging inside of him, forcing his features to return to neutrality. When the door opened, Spock blinked at the Captain, who looked at him with confusion. His blue eyes slightly haunted as he leaned in the doorway, clad in nothing but a pair of loose drawstring pants. Kirk's body was all hard muscles and lean planes, drawing the Vulcan's eye against his will.

"What's wrong, Spock?" Kirk asked, reaching up to wipe at the sweat that had been trickling down his brow.

Taking a deep breath of slightly musky air, Spock's hands moved together, clasping behind his back. "Captain, I was about to ask you the same thing," he said calmly, relaxing slightly as he felt the emotional storm that had been raging inside the Captain subside slightly. "May I come in?"

"Sure," Kirk said, motioning the Vulcan through the doorway. He kicked a uniform boot out of the way, hitting the switch to turn the lights on as he pushed his hair off of his forehead and threw himself down onto a long gray couch that dominated the sitting area.

Spock looked around the quarters, the scientist in him screaming with curiosity about the man that had been his Captain and tentative friend for months now. They were cluttered, clothing and data padds thrown haphazardly around the slightly bigger than normal crew quarters. There was only one photo, Kirk standing with a human woman that he assumed was his mother, the two of them standing awkwardly a few feet away from each other. They had the same facial structure, but his mother's eyes were a rich, deep brown color where Kirk's were a vivid blue color like his father's had been.

Taking a deep breath, Spock perched on the edge of a cushion, folding his long, graceful hands in his lap. He looked over at the Captain and held his mental breath. "Captain, how much do you know of my people's telepathic abilities?" he asked, a tight feeling of nervousness growing in his chest.

The human's blue eyes narrowed slightly and his posture straightened. Spock felt his emotions calm and subside as he was presented with something that he could concentrate on. "Not much. The study of the Vulcan culture wasn't exactly my favorite subject," he admitted without any guile what so ever.

Raising an eyebrow and biting back the retort that started to bubble from his lips, Spock nodded. "Understandable," he said, inclining his head. He took a deep breath and forced himself to maintain eye contact. "Captain, my people have a strong telepathy that we keep in check with mental disciplines. Mostly, my species is a touch telepath, but in the instance of bonded people, such as married couples or close family, the bond is much stronger. In some instances, strong emotions can push it's way through the barriers of the other's mind, especially while the mind is vulnerable," he explained, watching the play of emotions cross the Captain's face.

He was slightly dismayed, however, when the Captain yawned, reaching up and covering his mouth with one hand.

"As interesting as this is, Spock, I do have to get some sleep tonight," the Captain replied, raising an eyebrow in slight irritation at being roused out of bed for nothing more than a lesson in Vulcan telepathy.

Pursing his lips slightly as he felt the Captain's mind pulse against his strongly, he sighed mentally. Humans were so dense. "Captain, when I was rescued, I believe that in my weakened state, I may have inadvertently created a bond between our minds," his rich, melodious voice admitted, staring into the blue eyes that widened slightly before the Captain gained control over his face again.

"What kind of bond?" Kirk asked warily, narrowing his eyes at his first officer.

Spock inwardly winced as he felt the suspicion that pushed at his mind. "Unfortunately, a rather deep one, it seems," he replied, unable to meet the man in the eyes anymore and looking down at his hands before he forced himself to look back up.

Kirk blinked, one long, slow blink before his lips quirked up in a half smile. "So you're telling me that you can read my mind?" he asked, shaking his head and folding his hands over his stomach.

The Vulcan tilted his head as he felt the Captain's mind go very still and quiet, pulling back from his so quickly and completely that he felt a flash of loss before he tightly controlled his emotions. "Not entirely," he replied, taking a deep breath and shifting slightly. "It's more like I can sense what your emotions are if your mind is open enough. Although I have heard of telepaths strong enough to speak to each other over long distances, I don't believe that with my half human heritage that I would be strong enough to accomplish it with a human."

Spock forced himself to close his mouth, not knowing where the uncomfortably tight feeling was coming from in his chest. He reigned in his feelings as fiercely as he could, not wanting Kirk to sense his unease. `The Vulcan shifted, unable to hold completely still under the Captain's intense scrutiny.

"Is there any way to break the bond?" the man asked, his voice completely at ease, almost as even as a Vulcan's, but Spock's sensitive ears and his mental awareness of the man detected the hints of confusion and irritation coming off of Kirk.

"Not that I'm aware of, Captain. The only Vulcans who were knowledgeable about such things resided in the mountains of Gaul," he replied, his heart constricting as he thought of the Masters the he'd studied with so long ago. The loss of his people and all of their wisdom ached with new fervor, pushing at his emotional control. He saw the Captain's eyes widen a fraction as the emotion traveled over their bond to push against the man's mind.

Kirk stood up and paced the confines of his quarters before he crossed his arms over his bare chest and nodded. "Alright. Thanks for the heads up, Spock," he said, giving another large yawn. "I'll come and see you later so that we can discuss this more later."

The Vulcan stood a little too quickly at the obvious dismissal, the blood rushing away from his head as his circulatory system struggled to keep up. He blinked, swaying just slightly before he grabbed the Captain's arm in a firm grip to stop himself from falling. The moment his skin touched the bare flesh of the Captain's arm, he felt the distance that had been between them disappear like a desert wind. He felt Kirk's shock as their minds mingled.

Memories flashed in front of his eyes as his lids slid shut. He saw flashes of bar fights, nameless women and men naked and withering beneath him, school teachers with angry faces as they lectured him, and an endless field of corn. There was one face that kept popping back into the forefront of the memories, though, but just as he was trying to focus on the face of the woman in Kirk's mind, James jerked his skin away as if he'd been burned.

When the human pulled forcefully away, Spock's mind cried softly as the contact between them was broken. He pitched forward off his feet, landing on his hands and knees as his only slightly healed ribs protested the movement violently, sending him into a coughing fit. His arms wrapped around his rib cage, trying to ease the ache.

Warm, human hands grabbed his elbows through his shirt, concern breaking through the miasma of fear and confusion that were boiling in Kirk's mind as he helped Spock back up onto the couch. "Are you alright?" he asked, resting a hand on the man's back.

Once he could control his breathing once again, Spock nodded. "I apologize, Captain," he said, his voice slightly hoarse from his coughing fit. "If you'll excuse me." The Vulcan pushed his way to his feet, trying to gather the shreds of his dignity about him as he walked to the door, forcing his gait to remain normal even though he wanted to limp and hold his ribs.

Just as he pushed the button to open the door, he felt the Captain's hand on his shoulder. "Spock," the man said, holding him in place. "Why did you come by?"

Spock's shoulders tensed as he remembered the sensations that he'd gotten from their bond. He felt a flash of irrational jealousy one again before he pushed it away. "I came because I could feel your pain," he said quietly, turning and looking at the sandy-haired man with fathomless dark eyes. "I couldn't stand your pain anymore."

When Kirk's hand slipped away from his shoulder and his eyes went wide, Spock bowed to him and walked off, reminding himself to send a subspace transmission to his counterpart as soon as they were out of the neutral zone. He could feel the Captain's mind, brushing against his own as the man thought harder and harder of him. He didn't know how the bond had grown as strong as it was, but he wasn't willing to endure the Captain's midnight forays much longer.

* * *

Bones blinked across his desk as the Captain threw himself into a chair and proceeded to stare at him. He looked back, confused as the man continued to do nothing more than stare at him.

"What can I do for you, Jim?" Bones asked, setting down the data padd that he'd been working on.

The man tapped his fingers on the desk for a few seconds before he stood up and started to pace the narrow confines of the doctor's office. "Do you know anything about Vulcan telepathy?" he asked, turning back to his chief medical officer.

Raising an eyebrow at the unexpected subject, McCoy shook his head. "Not much. They keep a lot of things about their physiology and their culture very private," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is there something that I should know about, Jim?"

The sandy-haired man raked a hand through his hair, his pale eyes troubled as he looked down at his feet. "Not really," he replied, looking up at his friend and giving him a slightly wan smile. "I guess I'm just worried about Spock."

Nodding, the doctor gave Kirk a piercing look. "His recovery is moving right along. He should be back to his usual irritating self in a few days," he replied, pursing his lips in irritation. That pointy eared bastard had been avoiding him all day. He'd been trying to get him back down for some scans, but every time he'd almost caught up with him, the Vulcan had ducked out on him.

Kirk frowned, catching the doctor by suprise as he defended the man that had almost got him expelled from the Academy. "He's not irritating. Spock's just trying to keep it together in a very difficult time," the Captain replied, shaking his head before he walked out of the office. "See you later, Bones."

Dumbstruck, the southern doctor stared after the man that had gotten into a fist fight with the Vulcan on more than one occasion as he walked away. He looked back down at the data padd in his hand before he put it down and accessed his computer terminal, determined to learn as much as he could about the telepathic species.

Something was going on, and he was determined to find out what it was.

* * *

Spock stared off into the distance, the red sands of his home planet swirling around his robes. He felt the blistering heat of the air soak into his skin, chasing away the last vestige of the chill that always seemed to soak into his skin when on board a ship. No matter how high he adjusted the atmospheric controls on the ship, he always felt the chill of space through the skin of the hull.

In the back of his mind, he knew that this wasn't real. That he wouldn't ever be able to stand on this sand again, but he pushed that voice back, determined to ignore the pain that was waiting for him when he woke up. At least for a few moments, he could enjoy this fantasy.

"Spock?" came the deep baritone voice from behind him.

With a sigh, the Vulcan turned around to look at the human that was making his way across the red sands to stand next to him. "Captain Kirk," the Vulcan replied, tearing his gaze away from the beautiful blue of the man's eyes to stare out at the horizon again. He saw the large, bloated sphere of a planet start to rise above the horizon and he fixed his gaze on it, trying to subdue the rampant emotions that were waring in him.

"Where is this place?" the man's voice intruded again, breaking the calm that Spock had been trying to build.

"What used to be my favorate retreat in the Shani'Kar Mountain range," the Vulcan replied, the loss pushing at his control.

There was the sound of shuffling feet before Spock felt the human move to stand next to him. He caught Kirk fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, wiping beads of sweat off of his forehead as his human constitution protested the heat that Spock's home planet used to be famous for.

Kirk sighed as he looked out across the expanse of barren, harsh terrain. "It's really beautiful," he said quietly, letting his hands drop to his sides.

Spock felt pain rip through his heart at the Captain's words. "Used to be, Captain," he corrected, closing his eyes as he felt the irrational grief rip through him. There wasn't anything he could do to bring back his home planet, and it was illogical to dwell on the grief.

"Oh god," Kirk whispered softly, catching Spocks attention.

When the Vulcan turned to look at the human, he was surprised to find tears gathering in his eyes. Kirk looked at him, horrified as he felt the Vulcan's pain tear through his mind. He turned to the pointy-eared man, drawing him into a tight embrace before Spock could protest.

As the man's arms wrapped around him, Spock started to resist, his body stiff and unyielding. Through their bond, though, he could feel the echo of his own grief in Kirk's mind, and it broke a dam in him. Awkwardly, he slipped his arms around Kirk's waist, leaning forward slightly in silent acceptance of the man's comfort.

Spock's control slipped even farther as he allowed himself the comfort of another being for the first time since the destruction of his home planet. He felt Kirk's arms tighten, as waves of grief washed over the two of them.

He felt Kirk's body warm and secure against his own, and sensed the first stirings in the man of something other than their shared grief. It took him a few seconds before he realized that he was feeling desire ripple from the man. The human's hold on his body became less comforting and more firm before he pulled back slightly, his face level with the Vulcan's.

Spock's heart sped up as he felt his body react to the need that was rubbing against his mind like silk before the Captain's breath ghosted along his partially open lips. When the human's face started to blur slightly as it moved forward, Spock's eyes slipped close. He felt a nervous flutter in his stomach, but he couldn't tell if the feeling was coming from the man holding him or not, their minds were so close.

As their lips met, Spock's breath hitched in his throat as his body burned from the contact. His arms tightened around Kirk's waist, pulling him closer as the man's lips moved gently over his own. The kiss was soft, coaxing as James soothed the pain that was running through them both the only way that he knew how.

By taking the pain and twisting it into something else.

When the Vulcan gave a soft groan, Kirk's tongue slipped past the full, lush lips and into his mouth to stroke at Spock's own. Their tongue's dueled, stroking and twining until Spock felt like he was going to go mad from the desire.

He pulled away slightly, a desperate edge to his need. In the world outside, he never would have shown the man the desire raging in him, but here, in the depths of his mind, he couldn't hide it. Spock's hands slid up the human's chest until they cupped the strong features that he'd become familiar with over the months that they'd been on board ship. His long, elegant fingers slipped into the Captain's silky hair, pulling his lips back towards his own with ruthless determination.

* * *

"Spock!" the doctor yelled, shaking Spock's shoulder, pulling the Vulcan out of the erotic dream that he'd been having.

Groggily, Spock blinked up at the man who was leaning over him. He felt the light sheen of sweat that was covering his body even as he took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to push the dream out of his mind. He slammed the walls of his mind down, feeling the faint brush of shocked desire that rippled from the Captain through their bond. "Doctor?" he asked, confusion ripe in his voice as he sat up, forcing the Doctor to lean back.

"Good gods, man, I've been trying to wake you up for almost a half an hour now," he said, waving a scanner over the Vulcan's body. "You've got a elevated blood pressure, rapid resperations, and your Seratonin levels are extreamly high. What the hell were you just doing?"

Shaking his head to clear it of the arousal that had been tearing through him only seconds ago, Spock looked at the Doctor and blinked. "Sleeping," he answered honestly.

"Really? Must have been some dream," the Doctor grumbled, waving his scanner again.

* * *

Huzzah! It's all done! Chapter 4 is finally up and running. Let me know what you think of the story so far. Hopefully, I'll be able to get Chapter 5 done in a few more days. There's going to be at least one battle in the next chapter, if not 2. Tune in next time, ladies and gentlemen.

Lee


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Look, I don't own Star Trek, though I wish I did own Patrick Stewart. The only thing I own is my own little version of it. :) If you have any preconcieved notions about Spock and Kirk, you'd better not read this. I plan on making them a couple. And not just two, I mean.... COUPLE.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definately. Possibly others.

* * *

The Doctor scowled as Spock ushered him to the door. "Now you listen here, you stubborn," the Doctor started, only to be cut off as the ship rocked with a groaning, tearing sound.

In unison, the Vulcan and the human were thrown through the doorway, sprawling in a heap in the hallway as the deck pitched sharply and alarms began to blare. Spock pulled himself painfully up off the decking while the doctor scrambled to his feet and headed towards sickbay.

"I'm not done with you!" he called over his shoulder as he ran, catching a lift as it was quickly descending.

Shaking his head after the doctor, the Vulcan moved slowly down the hall to the lift, tugging on the simple white tunic that would have to suffice for the time being. He didn't think his healing ribs would take kindly to changing. Besides, the ship was in danger now, and injured or not, his place was on the bridge.

The turbolift opened onto a scene of chaos as the night skeleton crew that normally ran the bridge were panicing, their eyes wide as they tried to raise the shields. He stepped forward, forcing his gait to remain stable and normal despite the pain that was ripping up his spine from his injured ribs.

"Crewman, report," he questioned, stepping up to the Con and taking a seat in the chair, sending a silent thanks to the designer of the ship for making the Captain's chair cushioney.

The blonde man who was manning the tactical station looked back at him with a grateful expression on his face. "Sir, we're being attacked by two Klingon cruisers," he said as another blast rocked the ship, making the lights dim slightly as the shield generators drained power from the ship.

"Klingons?" Kirk's voice sounded from the lift as the doors opened, spilling the Captain and Sulu out onto the bridge.

Spock stood, silently unable to make himself look at the man that he'd just been having a rather vivid dream about. He nodded and moved over to the science station, taking the seat from a young ensign. "It appears that we're getting closer to their base of operations," he stated, looking at the readouts. He scanned the ships quickly, sending the data over to the tactical station.

"No kidding," the human muttered, before he yelled, "Fire at will, all cannons!"

The powerful cannons at the Enterpise's disposal ripped through space, impacting on the enemies shields as they fired back, launching torpedoes towards the graceful ship. As the cruisers dipped and rolled, trying to escape the blasts that were being sent their way. One ship would dart in, firing rapidly at the outnumbered ship, then retreat as the Enterprise turned her attention towards it.

Spock's graceful fingers flew over the controls of his station, feeding data to the tactical station, letting the gunner know where to hit the ships. He looked for any weakness in the enemies defenses as the Captain called out course corrections to the helmsman.

Chekov came stumbling onto the bridge a few seconds after the battle had started, tripping over his own feet as he tried to tug on one of his boots. He pushed the helmsman out of his seat and took over for the younger, less trained woman. The Russain's fingers danced, the ship responding beautifully to his commands.

The Vulcan's sensitive ears picked up the subtle shift in the vibrations of the engines as they were coaxed into giving more. He saw an opening in the lead ships shields, and he sent the data to the gunner just before he saw the screens in front of him light up with the reflection of an explosion in space. For a second, he regretted the lives that were lost, knowing that it was his data that had caused their deaths, but then he was caught up in the stream of emotions that were raging through the ships captain.

Kirk whooped loudly, pumping his fist in the air before he ordered his ship to turn towards the other Klingon vessel. The moment the tactical advantage was gone, though, the second ship warped out of there, heading for the outskirts of the system.

"Chekov, plot a course. We're not going to let them get away that easily. Spock, I want to know where that ship is headed," the human called over his shoulder to the science station, not at all surprised to see the Vulcan working like mad at the controls.

Pushing the emotions that were brushing against his mind from his link with the Captain back, the Vulcan nodded. "I'm endevoring to do so now, Captain," he replied, pulling up some scans as the Enterprise gave chase. He blinked when he saw the seven ships that appeared from inside the asteroid field on the edge of the system. "Captain, I have seven more Klingon ships on an intercept course," he called over his shoulder, turning to look at the man in the command chair.

"Let's get the hell outta here! Send a subspace to headquarters. Let them know what's going on and tell them that we've got a half a fleet on our tails. Spock, do you think that we can out run them?" Kirk asked, turning in his chair to look at the slightly rumpled Vulcan.

Double checking his readings, the Vulcan gave an absent nod. "According to the current specifications for a standard Klingon cruiser, yes," he replied, looking up and automatically meeting the human's eyes.

His breath caught in his throat as the human looked back at him with warm, glittering eyes. The soft blue of the Captain's eyes had looked just like that before he'd met Spock's lips. The Vulcan's tongue pressed against his teeth, the remembered taste of the human's lips When he felt the man's mind tentatively brush his, it shocked him back to reality and he pulled back, slamming his mental barriers into place. He turned away from the human, looking back down at his readouts.

"Alright everyone, the excitements over. Let's get a damage report. I want all section commanders to have a full report to me by 0900 hours," the Captain said, standing and moving over to Chekov. "What's the status of our shields? I don't want us to get caught with out pants down again."

"Keptin, our shields are at tventy percent," the man replied, his accent thicker as the adrenaline rush caused his concentration to wander. "Any more hits on our starboard side and the generators on dat side vill overload."

Nodding, Kirk paced over to the helm, looking down at the Asian man's console. "At maximum warp, how long until we're within hailing distance of the nearest fleet ships? Where ever those ships came from, you know their going back to get some friends," he stated quietly as the crew saw to their tasks quickly and efficiently.

"We should be within distance of Star base Eleven in about six hours, Captain," he said, reaching up to cover a yawn.

With a half smile, the Captain clapped him on the shoulder and headed towards Spock. The Vulcan was leaning over his scans, pretending that he couldn't sense the human's presence as he made the rounds of the bridge. He examined some faint background radiation that he was picking up from a pulsar to distract himself when he felt a warm hand settle on his shoulder. "Spock," the Captain said, his fingers squeezing gently as he leaned down. "Are you supposed to be on the bridge?"

Taking a deep breath, the Vulcan turned to look into a very startling pair of blue eyes. He rose one eyebrow, keeping his emotions tightly controled as he stilled his hands on the controls to fine tune the sensors. "I believed that my presence here was necessary given the circumstances," he responded, his tone and cadance as normal as he could make them.

Kirk's hand gentled, becoming an almost caress as his smile softened slightly. "Well, until Bones says you can return to duty, he'll have my head in a sling if he finds out that I let you stay," he said softly.

The hair on Spock's arm rose as he felt the Captain's emotion slip past the barrier he'd erected during the fight to block out the man's excitement so he could focus on his tasks. Raw hunger pulsed from the sandy-haired man, making Spock's heart pick up a faster beat as the memory of the man's lips on his own slid through his mind.

"Captain, I must protest. I am obviously fit to return to duty," the Vulcan replied, fighting not to get caught in the drowning blue of the man's eyes. He blinked, the discipline of a lifetime holding him in good stead as he kept his breathing under control.

When the Captain slipped his hand off of his first officer's shoulder, his fingertips trailed over the soft cream linen of his tunic. "Rules are rules, Spock. Now get some rest until Bones can clear you for duty," Kirk said, taking a step back.

Fighting the urge to reach out and touch the man that had pulled away from him, Spock got carefully to his feet. He refused to wince as his still tender ribs protested any movement. "Captain, I must protest. This is a time of crisis and the ship requires the presence of her senior staff," he replied, slowly bringing his hands together behind his back.

Kirk rose an eyebrow at the Vulcan's stubbornness. "Fine," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You want back on the bridge, you get clearance from Bones."

Mentally shaking of the confusion he was getting from the Captain's mind, Spock stood and nodded. "Understood, Captain," he replied, looking away and heading towards the turbo lift. Just as the doors were shutting, he looked back to find Kirk staring at him with the strangest mixture of confusion and desire warring in his eyes. Spock sighed internally, reaching over and pressing the button that would send him hurtling on his way, ignoring the curious looks from the crew and one specific officer especially.

* * *

Spock danced around the nurses who were bustling from wounded crewman to wounded crewman, carrying charts and injections. He listened carefully, picking the Doctor's calm southern drawl out of the din surrounding him and headed for the man. He clutched the data padd that required nothing more than the man's signature tightly as a gurney was rolled past him, a burned crew member groaning softly laying on it's surface.

Taking a breath of the antiseptic scented air, the Vulcan pushed on, tugging on the uniform shirt that he'd painfully donned before he had headed down to Sickbay. He stood behind the doctor as the man quickly pressed a syringe into a man's neck. "He's stable. Let's move him to the recovery area and make sure he gets plenty of fluids. Those burns are going to hurt like the dickens for a few days," he instructed before turning around and just about mowing down the tall Vulcan.

"Doctor," the Vulcan greeted, holding out his data pad.

McCoy took it, walking away towards his next patient as he scanned it. "No," he said simply, handing the device back to the Vulcan as he bent over the next man. "He's fine. Get him some salve for those plasma burns and then send him back to duty." He looked over the painful looking burn on the man's neck for a few more seconds before he stalked away.

Spock kept pace, the padd clutched in his hands as he dodged a blonde nurse with a scanner. "Doctor, I assure you that I'm more than capable of preforming my duties," he argued, folowing the man from bed to bed as he scanned wounded and issued orders about treatment.

"Look, Spock, you were mostly frozen when we got you back. You had four cracked ribs, you had massive internal damage from the crash, and with the strange vitals I've been getting off of you lately, I'm going to have to consult with an actual Vulcan doctor before I can clear you for duty," he argued, glancing back at the man that was stalking him around the wounded.

Holding out the data padd again, the Vulcan stepped directly into the man's path. "I'm perfectly fit for duty. The abnormal readings that you took aren't abnormal for my mixed heritage," he replied, holding out the padd for the man to sign again.

Scowling, the doctor crossed his arms over his chest. "Then explain them," he replied, ignoring the call from one nurse.

Still holding out the padd, Spock ignored the hustle of the people around him. "A Vulcan's mental and physical health are very closely connected. I was in the process of a deep meditation when you woke me. It disrupted my mind for a moment," he explained, leaving out the fact that he'd been connected to the Captain's mind.

"That's about as helpful as teats on a boar hog," the man grumbled, snatching the padd and signing his name. "If you keel over on your station, it's not my fault." He pushed past the Vulcan, moving around the beds to reach the more serious trama victims that were being brought in as more parts of deck 11 were pulled from the wreckage.

"Thank you, Doctor," Spock said, turning and heading for the bridge. He moved as quickly as he was able to through the corridors, the Doctor's signature clutched in his hand.

When he reached the turbolift that led to the bridge, he stepped inside and allowed himself a moment to lean against the wall, taking a few deep breaths to help bolster his mental disciplines. When he felt the lift start to slow, he pushed off of the wall, making sure that his face was flat and expressionless. He wouldn't shame himself of what remained of his proud race by showing weakness for something like a few cracked ribs and some internal damages.

When the doors opened, he blinked in mild surprise to see Uhura standing on the other side. Her eyes lit up as she stepped into the small space. "Lieutenat," he greeted, turning and heading out of the lift.

"Spock, wait," she called softly, grabbing his hand and tugging him back into the lift.

He looked over at her delicate face and sighed internally. He knew what she wanted, but he wasn't ready to deal with any of her emotional needs. The Vulcan gently tugged his sleeve out of her grasp. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but I have to return to my station," he said, ignoring the pained look in her large eyes.

"Fine," she replied, pursing her lips as she stepped back into the lift and slapped the control pannel. As the doors slid shut, she looked up at him, her eyes filled with anger and pain as her nostrils flaired slightly as she took a deep breath.

Closing his eyes for a brief second, Spock took a deep, cleansing breath before he turned to face the bridge crew that he knew would all be watching him.

As he turned, he wasn't disappointed. Every pair of eyes save for one was watching him with avid interest.

Kirk stared down at the data padd in his hand so intently that Spock knew even without the brush of mixed feelings against his mind that the man wasn't really paying attention to it. The man's fingers were drumming on the arms of his chair, tapping out an anxious rythem. He tentively brushed over the man's mind, trying to get a read on his emotions.

When his mind touched on the mangled mess that was the Captain's mind, he recoiled slightly, fighting the urge to slam his mind shut. He took a deep breath, letting Kirk feel the push of his mind. Immediately, the man turned in his chair, his blue eyes startled as he stared at the Vulcan. Spock sensed the shock and hint of fear that ran through his mind before curiosity dominated everything.

"Welcome back, Commander," the human said, looking him up and down aprasingly.

"Captain," Spock said, handing the man the slim mechanical device. "I have been official cleared for duty by the chief medical officer." After the Captain took the padd, the Vulcan clasped his hands behind his back, assuming a very comfortable parade rest position as he waited for the man to scan the document.

Rasing an eyebrow, Kirk looked up at Spock. "What did you do to Bones?" he asked suspiciously, a twinkle lighting his pale blue eyes.

Both of the Vulcan's eyebrows climbed nearly to his hairline as he blinked at the Captain. "I am unsure what you may be implying, Captain," he responded, keeping a tight reign on the amusement that was running through his mind.

"Well, whatever you threatened him with, it worked," the human said, shaking his head before he handed the data padd back to Spock. "Mr. Spock, we need to keep an eye out for those Klingons. I have this feeling that we're not out of hot water yet."

Nodding, the Vulcan returned to his station, settling himself into the slightly uncomfortable chair with some difficulty before he leaned forward. He took a deep, silent breath before he pushed the pain away from his mind and concentrated on the sensors in front of him.

* * *

Eight and a half hours later, the Vulcan was pulled jolted into awareness by a warm, strong hand on his shoulder. He twitched slightly, sending his ribs into a screaming fit. He froze for a second before he straightened, He turned his head slightly, catching a hint of the Captain's slightly spicy, musky scent.

Brilliant baby blue eyes stared into his own from only a few inches away, causing his heart to flutter slightly. "You know," the Captain whispered conspiratorially, "just because you're cleared for duty doesn't mean that you need to catch up for all the time that you've missed in one shift." His eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at the Vulcan, amusement emanating from him.

Taking a deep breath of the human's scent, Spock blinked. "That wasn't my intention," he began, only to be cut off by the man's soft laughter.

"Come on, Spock, lets go and get some grub," he said, giving the Vulcan's shoulder a squeeze.

With a nod, the Vulcan stood, shifting away from Kirk by stepping towards the lift. He couldn't pin down the Captain's mood, but the tangle of emotions and thoughts that were screaming from his mind wasn't altogether positive. Taking a mental breath, the tall raven haired man stepped into the lift and pressed the button for the mess hall.

The Captain leaned against the opposite side of the small space, his blue eyes inscrutable as he looked across at Spock. He seemed about to speak a few times, taking a breath and opening his full lips before he seemed to change his mind. A few times, the Vulcan caught his blue eyes roaming over his body. Every time, he felt his spine straighten slightly.

When he felt the human's eyes roam over him again, he felt a small knot start in the pit of his stomach. Spock cursed his perfect memory as it flashed to the feelings of passion and the sensations of the full, lush lips attached to the man across from him. He felt his heart speed up as the Captain pushed off the wall and took a step towards him.

He swallowed, looking over at the man. Spock watched in fascination as the blue of his eyes deepened as his pupils dilated slightly. Kirk took a deep breath, parting his lips as he got closer. For a few seconds, Spock couldn't have told you his name as he stared at the perfect lips that beckoned him.

"Captain?" he asked, cursing his control as his voice hitched in his throat.

Just as the Captain's hand was reaching towards the stop button on the lift, the doors whooshed open and an Ensign stood at the threshold, blinking in shock as he saw the two senior most bridge officers.

"Sir," he said, saluting sharply.

With a significant look in the Vulcan's direction, Kirk stepped off of the lift and headed for the mess hall. "Ensign," he replied, nodding to the boy before he smiled at Spock. "Are you coming or what?"

Nodding, the Vulcan stepped off of the lift and followed the Captain. He took a deep breath as he followed, keeping a tight grip on his emotions as he followed the man. This was going to be a rather interesting lunch.

* * *

Horray! Chapter 5 is up and ready to go. Sorry for the time in between chapters. It's getting closer to summer, and that means that things are more and more hectic every week. :) As per usual, you know what to do with the little button at the bottom that says review.

Lee


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Look, I don't own Star Trek, though I wish I did own Patrick Stewart. I do, however, own this storyline and any original characters that I happen to randomly add.

Warning: This chapter may contain some content not suitable for delicate readers. aka Spock gets some action!

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

* * *

With a large, heartfelt yawn, Spock sank gratefully inito his bed. They'd safely arrived at Starbase Eleven two days ago, and he'd finally given over control of the sensors to one of the junior officers after a long, grueling twelve hour shift. His ribs ached fiercely, a dull throbbing pain that seemed to radiate from where he'd been hurt in the crash up his spine to his head, where it settled to torment him. Every breath that he took reminded him of his foolishness, and an irrational anger at himself grew.

If he'd just taken a co-pilot along, he wouldn't have been so distracted by the readings from the planet. He would have noticed that the magnetic flux had been changing in time to correct his course.

If he hadn't been so distracted by Uhura's constant demands on his time, he wouldn't have wanted to escape the ship.

If he'd been a better pilot, he wouldn't have crashed so hard.

If he'd have gotten ahold of a fully functional survival suit, he wouldn't have been half frozen by the time they'd found him.

If the Captain hadn't followed his survival procedures to the full extent, he wouldn't now be bonded to a man that was a notorious womanizer.

Shaking his head at the illogical musings of his mind, the Vulcan took a slow, careful breath, stretching his ribs so that he didn't get a lung infection from disuse. He stared at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the smooth contours of the beige ceiling. He took another careful breath as he tried to strengthen his mental barriers against the constant push of the Captain's mind against his own.

Closing his eyes, he attempted to ease into sleep. Then Captain's words kept running around in his mind, though, disturbing his thoughts. He licked his lips and gingerly rolled himself onto his side, trying to find a comfortable position on the bed. His beautiful, fathomless eyes opened, staring out the small porthole that gave him a view of the stars. The Vulcan shifted the pillow under his head, folding it to find a warmer spot. He tugged the covers tighter around his body, trapping even more warmth with the thick wool of the blankets.

_The Captain took his tray and waited for Spock to make his selection from the limited options open to his strictly vegitarian diet. When the first officer had selected his meal, Kirk walked over to the emptiest section of the mostly deserted mess hall, motioning to the seat across from him. _

_"Please," he requested, giving the Vulcan a smile as he sat down and pulled the utensils out of the napkin that they were rolled in._

_Not willing to show cowardice to the man that he'd been told by his counterpart would be one of the greatest influences of his life, Spock took the seat, settling himself gingerly on it's hard surface. He busied himself by unrolling his cutlery to give his hands something to do while the Captain threw furtive glances his way._

_"Spock," Kirk said, causing the Vulcan to look up into captivating blue eyes. He couldn't remember for the life of him if those eyes had held the same pull before he'd accidentally bonded with the human. All he knew was now, he couldn't look away._

_"Yes, Captain?" he asked, his voice polite and impersonal. He speared a leaf and brought it to his mouth, chewing the vegetable slowly as he waited for Kirk to speak._

_The human took a deep breath and set down his fork. Spock caught a hint of nervous excitement coming from Kirk's mind before he slammed the barriers of his mind shut, trying to block out the human's emotions as best he could. _

_"This is going to sound really strange, but I had a dream about you last night," he said, looking down at his hands before he looked up at the Vulcan through his thick, sooty lashes. "It wasn't a dream, though, was it?"_

_Feeling his stomach twist, Spock set down his fork. He swallowed the bite he'd been chewing carefully, giving himself a few seconds to think. "If you'll remember, Captain, I told you that during my accident, we were bonded mentally," he started, waiting for the Captain to nod before he continued. "I believe that bond has grown during my recovery."_

Spock rolled over in bed, closing his eyes as his ribs gave a small warning that he wasn't supposed to move that quickly. He crossed his arms underneath his pillow, burying his face in the soft cotton casing. He allowed himself to heave a soft sigh as he mulled over his conversation, the scientist in him analyzing every faucet of the Captain's expressions.

_A flicker of something crossed the human's face before it was wiped clean. "I thought you wouldn't be able to read my mind," the human said, leaning down and taking a huge forkful of his lasagna and shoving it into his mouth._

_The Vulcan's face tightened slightly before it smoothed out. His stomach lurched as his nervousness grew. "Please understand, Captain, what transpired was not intentional. It was never my intention to bond our minds so completely. I hypothesised that it might be something more in keeping with the bond between siblings, but it has apparently grown much stronger than that," he explained, forcing his rich voice to keep with it's normal cadence._

_Raising his eyebrows, the human looked across the table at the Vulcan that was sitting across from him. To the normal, average person, Spock would look normal, but for some reason, he knew differently. "Why are you so nervous, Spock?" he blurted out, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "How do I know that you're nervous?"_

_Having to fight off a hint of panic, the Vulcan took a breath a sharp pain from his back catching him off guard. He froze for a second as his face twitched before smoothing out again. "Because, Captain, our bond is deeper than most others. Only spouses share a bond as deep as the one that we now share. It isn't something that I have ever experienced, so I'm having difficulty controlling it. I don't have the training to keep you out of my mind," he replied, deciding that the direct approach would be the best one._

_When the Captain just stared at him, his blue eyes wide, Spock inwardly sighed. He stood, setting his napkin and utensils down on the metal tray. "If you'll excuse me, Captain, I believe that I will return to my quarters," he said, nodding to the man and taking his mostly untouched tray of food over to the food recyclers. _

_A small ache started in his chest as he looked back and saw the man still staring at him with shock and horror written on his face. Somehow, he knew that this ace wasn't going to go away with medical help._

Spock allowed himself to feel the humiliation that had been pushing at him ever since that disastrous lunch. The Captain had avoided him, keeping an impersonal distance between them that hadn't been there before firmly in place. Spock had been ripped from sleep almost twice a night now as the Captain took more and more lovers on. The man must have slept with every woman on the starbase and half of the women on the ship as well.

If it weren't so emotionally draining, he might have found the Captain's vigor mildly impressive.

He'd gotten in contact with his older counterpart, hoping that the other Spock would have some insight into his problem, only to be disappointed as the Elder's answers hadn't been what he'd wanted to hear.

_The elder Vulcan's eyebrows rose in shock as he looked at his younger counterpart. "Fascinating," he murmured after a few shocked moments of silence._

_Spock's jaw clenched slightly before he forced it to relax. "I fail to see how this situation could possibly be 'facinating'," he responded with a hint of depression in his voice. He hadn't been able to sleep at all last night because Kirk had discovered the joys of two bed mates at once. He didn't know when the man actually slept, but whenever it was, Spock wished the man would tell him so that he could nap himself._

_A hint of a smile crossed the softly wrinkled face before it was wiped clean. "You'll have to forgive my curiosity. I never bonded with the Kirk from my time in the same way that you have now bonded with yours," he explained, leaning back slightly in his seat. "The only person that I ever bonded with that deeply died rather suddenly." _

_Grateful that his mirror was willing to discuss such a delicate, private subject with him, Spock's tense shoulders relaxed slightly. "How is such a bond severed? I must admit to an ignorance on such matters," Spock admitted, feeling slightly sheepish. He'd always been much more interested in the universe off of Vulcan rather than the disciplines that he could learn from the masters of Gaul._

_"To be perfectly honest, I have no idea," Spock's mirror responded, steppling his hands on the brown table in front of him. "My time with the Masters of Gaul was short. I'm not quite sure if any of the Masters were off world during the attack. I'll make inquiries to see if any of the new Vulcan colonies have a Master or a Novice among their ranks. Until then, I'm afraid that, to use a human euphemism, you're stuck with him."_

Spock's body protested as he rolled over again, flopping onto his back as he felt an alien restlessness push past his mind. Unwillingly, his mind brushed against Kirk's. He followed the path that had grown stronger between the two of them by the day, despite the Vulcan's best efforts to the contrary.

He groaned inwardly as he felt the Captain's mind brush against his again, bringing the feelings of lust tinted with desperation again. Between the pain from his injuries and the Captain's constant demands on the female crew members, he'd had no peace. Even the quiet of meditation eluded him. The only way he could comfortably meditate was with all of his mental walls down, and he couldn't do that with Kirk's mind so close to his.

Frustration welled up in him, spilling over as he sat up in bed. The man could take one night off from his womanizing. Just one. He'd been sleep deprived, keeping him physically weakened from the shuttle accident. If he could get one good nights sleep, away from the Captain's emotions, Spock knew that he would be in much better condition. His anger grew with his frustration, until he couldn't sit still any longer.

Grabbing his robe off the back of the chair, the Vulcan padded through the corridors barefoot, shivering at the cold that seeped into his bones from the decking. When he got to the Captain's quarters, he took a deep breath and pressed the chime. He heard a distinctly feminine giggle before the door opened and a blonde yeoman blinked in surprise at the slightly rumpled appearance of the first officer.

Taking a step forward, Spock moved past the threshold and into the quarters of the man that had been unwittingly tormenting him for weeks. Wither unknowingly or not, the Vulcan was tired, sore, and entirely fed up with the man's constant disregard for any semblance of decency.

Kirk's eyed Spock as he got to his feet from where he'd been lounging in nothing more than a pair of loose shorts on the couch. "Can I help you, Spock?" he asked, irritation clear on his face.

"Yeoman, I believe you have other duties to attend to," he told the confused woman, his dark eyes boring into the man across from him. His hands dropped from behind his back, fisting at his sides as the anger that he felt inside welled up.

Before Kirk could say anything, the woman grabbed her boots and hustled out the door. She'd been on the bridge the last time he'd had that look, and she didn't want to be anywhere near Spock when he lost it again. There were limits to what Kirk's charm could do, and crossing that Vulcan was more than she was willing to bite off.

"You have two seconds to explain yourself," Kirk growled, crossing his arms over his bare chest as the door shut behind the young woman.

Narrowing his eyes, Spock forced his hands to clasp behind his back, least he be tempted to strangle the irritating man. Again. His breathing became slightly harsh as he caught a hint of Kirk's unspent desire through the mental path that led straight to the man's mind.

"This is completely unacceptable," he said, his voice thick with anger. The control that he'd fought for all the way here slipped again, letting his emotions show. "I have tried to be as polite as I possibly can about this, but your constant liaisons are keeping me from getting any rest what-so-ever. It is unprofessional."

Kirk's eyes narrowed as he stood and stepped closer to the Vulcan, anger rolling off of him in waves. "I don't see how anything that I do or do not do is any of your damn business," he growled, his hands clenching into fists.

The Vulcan recoiled at the rage that was rolling off of the man. He felt a matching rage building in himself, boiling through his veins. "Every decision that you make effects not only me but this ship as well," he hissed back, his short, even fingernails digging into his palms as his fists tightened.

The human's intense eyes narrowed and focused in on the Vulcan in front of him, stepping closer and invading more of the very private man's personal space. "Are you questioning my authority?" he asked. "You want to go another round with me, Spock?"

Before he could react, the Captain's hands connected with his chest, shoving him backwards. The blow wouldn't have phased him had he been at full strength, but with his ribs still not quite healed, he was forced back a step. He had a moment to be stunned by the pain in his body before anger welled up and burned as it was reflected off of Kirk's mind. The anger and frustration simmered between them, growing as their minds passed back and forth between them.

Spock's hands shoved him back, just before he tackled the human around the waist and threw them both over the coffee table. When they landed, he tried to ignore the pain that was screaming through him. His hands wrapped around Kirk's throat, squeezing tightly as the human struggled under his weight.

Stars danced in front of Spock's eyes, though, when Kirk's knee scored a lucky shot on one of the larger bruises covering his back. The ties of his robe slipped, the pale beige fabric gaping open as he struggled to retain his balance despite the agony that was running up and down his body. His fingers started to slip as the nerves in his hands went slightly numb.

Kirk bucked up, surprising Spock and slamming him into the coffee table. The still stunned Vulcan's head cracked against the metal just as his elbow shot out to smash into the human's cheekbone. When Kirk's head snapped back, Spock tried to grab a hold of his neck to drop him with a nerve pinch, but the human grabbed his hands and slammed them into the decking.

Grunting softly, Spock tried to pull his hands off of the floor to reach the Captain. He closed his eyes as the man's body flattened over his own, pressing him down into the chilly carpet. He could feel the man's breath rasping in and out against his face, the minty scent of his toothpaste mingling with the musky scent of his aftershave.

Warmth radiated from the man above him, soaking into Spock's skin. He bucked again, trying to fight the feelings that were slowly simmering down to something more than just anger. He turned his face away from the warmth, trying to gain some control over his emotions. The Vulcan tried to pull his hands free of the vice-like grip that they were under. With a grunt of effort, he managed to raise his hands a few inches off of the floor.

"Look at me, damn you," Kirk hissed, leaning on the Vulcan's wrists so the small distance that he'd managed to put towards freedom disappeared.

Spock's eyes automatically snapped back to the human's face as he heard the commanding tone. He sucked in a soft breath as the man's weight settled more firmly onto his body, the warmth that had been slowly seeping into him burning hotter. The bond between them strengthened as the Captain's bare flesh slipped over his own. When their hips met, Spock felt a spark ignite in his mind that warmed his whole body.

Slowly, Kirk lowered his face towards Spock, the anger and frustration in his head screaming into the Vulcan's mind. Spock's lips parted as he read the Captain's intentions in his mind a split second before the soft, full lips that he'd dreamed about gently pressed against his own.

A desperate, slightly strangled sound crept out of the Vulcan's lips as he felt the human's passion slip through him. Spock tugged on his hands, needing to touch the man above him. His hands flexed as his spine pushed upwards, pressing their bodies closer despite the pain that it caused. He ignored the protest of his battered body as he pressed his lips more firmly against the Captain's, desperate to absorb the man's warmth.

Kirk's weight shifted, pressing his chest farther into the floor as he moved his knee to nudge the Vulcan's legs open. Without breaking the soft, slow exploration of Spock's lips the human settled his hips between the man's thighs, shifting until the pinned telepath could feel the evidence of Kirk's desire pressing against his own.

Spock gasped into the kiss as flames licked up his body. He whimpered softly as Kirk's tongue took advantage, gently exploring the inside of his mouth. Tentatively, the Vulcan responded to the kiss. He ran his tongue over the marauding man's, making Kirk moan as the man's hips bucked against his own. Warm, strong hands came up to cup Spock's face and hold it still as the human started to move his hips.

As the Captain rocked gently against his body, Spock broke the kiss to throw his head back. He brought his newly freed hands up and buried them in the man's silky hair. His fingers gripped the hair as the very talented mouth of the Captain nipped and kissed it's way down his jaw to the sensitive skin of his neck. Spock's hips bucked against Kirk as the man nibbled a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.

One of Kirk's hands stroked down his body until it gripped his hips while the other one braced on the decking next to Spock's head. He shifted his knees slightly wider, forcing the Vulcan's legs to open slightly farther. Spock laid his feet flat on the decking, pushing up into the hand and body that tormented him. His fingers slipped down to the Captain's strong shoulders, his short nails digging into the soft skin as he felt a gentle nip at the pointed tip of his earlobe.

_'Oh god, please don't stop,' _the Vulcan thought desperately as the man's hand gripped his hip slightly harder. The thumb ran over his hipbone, tantalizingly close to the center of his desire as a very warm tongue traced the shell of his earlobe.

_'Not on your life,' _the Captain's voice whispered through his mind as another drugging wave of desire washed through his consciousness.

Spock's eyes snapped open and his whole body tensed painfully as he realized that neither of them had spoken out loud. He pushed at the human's chest, pulling his ear away from Kirk's mouth. When the man's teeth nipped a retribution out on his neck, Spock's breath hitched in his throat at the intense pleasure.

'Wait,' he thought, pushing against the wall of Kirk's chest. "Wait," he panted in Vulcan even as his body arched into the man's hands.

"What?" he panted, his hips pressing against Spock's slightly harder.

Groaning softly, the Vulcan's eyes slid shut. He pushed again, putting space between them. "No," he breathed softly, his hips rising to meet the Captain's before he could stop them. "No, please wait."

Kirk pushed himself up, his whole body hovering over the Vulcan's. "What's wrong?" he asked, confusion that was tainted by a small streak of hurt broadcasting into Spock's mind.

Sucking in a breath, the Vulcan's ribs screamed in protest at the sudden action. He groaned softly, squeezing his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around his body as he began coughing. His breath rattled in his chest as he finally gained control over the spasms in his lungs. Carefully, he drew in a breath and opened his eyes to stare up into the deep, rich blue of Kirk's eyes.

"Shit, Spock, I'm sorry," Kirk said, sitting back on his haunches and looking down at the deep emerald bruises that marred the perfect skin of the Vulcan's chest and abdomen. "I forgot about these."

Spock sucked in a shallow breath as the man's fingers traced over his body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. He grabbed Kirk's hand, stilling it as he forced himself to relax into the decking. His lips felt swollen from Kirk's passionate kisses and his mind was still trying to gain mastery over his rebellious body.

"Please, Cap-," he started before Kirk's free hand reached up and brushed over his lips.

The man's thumb traced his lower lip as his intense, passion filled eyes stared Spock down. "I think you can call me Jim, now," he said, a very lazy smile slyly stretching his lips.

With a slightly shaky breath, Spock shifted his body away from the human. His aches and pains returned with a vengeance as he put a few feet of space between them. He tugged the edges of his robe closed, the chill of the man's quarters more noticeable now that the Captain's body wasn't warming him from the outside in.

Kirk's mercurial moods shifted again, going from desire to a guilt. "Spock, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," he said, his hands resting on his thighs. "It was out of line."

With a soft sigh that burned his throat slightly, Spock pushed shaking hands through his hair. "You must forgive me. My actions were also inexcusable," he replied, looking down and away from the perfection of Kirk's blue eyes.

The Vulcan blinked in surprise when a soft, warm hand tilted his chin upwards until he was forced to look into Kirk's eyes. "Spock," he said, moving his hand until it cupped the man's cheek. "What was wrong?"

Staring into the human's beautiful eyes, Spock let his shields fall completely. All of the exhaustion that he'd been feeling earlier swamped him. 'Please,' he whispered softly into Kirk's mind.

The man's mind seemed to withdraw from his before it brushed gently forward. His lips quirked upward in a slightly enigmatic smile before he pulled his hand away from the Vulcan's face. "I have been rather bad, haven't I?" he asked, dropping his hand to his side. "I tell you what. I'll make you a deal. If I don't have to put up with anymore desert views, you won't have another restless night."

"Thank you, Cap- Jim," Spock replied, inclining his head slightly as he started to shiver slightly. "If you'll forgive me, I think I should return to my quarters now." He rose to his feet slowly, looking down at the top of the Captain's head for a few seconds before he turned for the door, sensing the man's desire raging through his system.

"Spock," Kirk called after him as he palmed open the door.

"Yes?" Spock asked without turning around.

"When you're not hurt anymore, we're going to finish this discussion," he said softly, promise ripe in his voice.

* * *

Spock checked the readouts again, turning and glancing over his shoulder at the Captain for the hundredth time since the man had taken the bridge. True to his word, Kirk had stopped sleeping with everything available, letting Spock sleep at night. In return, Spock had tried his hardest to keep the images of his home planet and the face of his mother out of his own mind.

The Captain stared out the view screen, waiting for one of Spock's sensors to pick up any signs of the Klingons that they'd found earlier. The same Yeoman that Spock had chased out of his quarters a few nights ago approached the Captain, handing him a data padd and sneaking a glance over her shoulder at the science station where the Vulcan quickly looked down at his readouts.

He stared at the display for a few more minutes, not seeing it before he forced his mind to focus on it. A flare of alarm ran through his veins as he stared at the data that was displayed in front of him. He looked over at Kirk to see the man's back stiffen as he stood and looked at Spock.

"Captain," the Vulcan said, straightening slightly in his seat. "I believe we may have found the moon where the Klingons have been hiding."

Kirk stood up and strode over to the science station, leaning over Spock's shoulder so that he could see the data for himself. His hand rested on the dark haired man's back just in between his shoulder blades, a very proprietary gesture as he blinked in disbelief at the numbers that were being transmitted back.

He looked over at Spock, worry and excitement brushing over the Vulcan's mind with a feather light touch. "Uhura," he called, looking over his shoulder at the communications officer. "Send a subspace to fleet headquarters. We've got a problem out here. A Klingon fleet is stationed on the edge of our space."

* * *

Pardon my mild fan service in the middle of the chapter. :) Gotta love Spock's jealousy, though.

Please read and review!

Lee


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Look, I don't own Star Trek. If I did, I would have a MUCH much better looking desk chair. *sigh* As it is, I'll have to make due with owning nothing more than my own demented plot.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

* * *

Admiral Pike pushed the controls of his chair forward through the elegant halls of Starfleet headquarters, whistling softly under his breath. He sipped his coffee, setting it down on the holder he'd had installed in this thing especially for the metal mug. It was one of the only concessions to loosing the ability to walk.

He didn't have to carry his own coffee anymore. Or take the physical training tests anymore, thank god. he'd been starting to feel that four kilometer run a little too much in the past year. His knees had been going, and he knew it.

As he passed into his office, he nodded to the Yeoman that he had as his secretary. "Morning," he greeted, buzzing past her desk towards the door to his office.

"Admiral?" she called softly, standing and following him with a stack of data padds in her hands and a determined expression on her face.

Sighing inaudibly, the crippled man pulled his chair up behind his desk and looked across the standard issue piece of furniture at his assistant. "Yes, Yeoman Richards?" he asked, accepting the padds that she passed over to him.

"Sir, you received a message from a Vulcan who calls himself Spock. It's from the new Vulcan colony," she said, clasping her hands behind her back. "You also have a meeting with the Council at noon, and your sister wants to know if you are going to make it out for Thanksgiving this year."

Blinking, Pike held up his hand. "Wait a minute. Did this Vulcan say his name was Spock, or Spock Prime?" he asked, remembering what their visitor from the future was calling himself now.

Frowning slightly, the woman stared at the wall for a few seconds before she nodded. "Spock Prime, Sir," she replied, nodding again.

"Get him back for me, please," he said, leaning back in his chair and starting to go through the documents. Most of them were supply requisitions, and he signed them absently, only really blinking at the supplies that the Enterprise had requested. He shook his head and authorized it anyways, trusting in the crew of the flagship to know what they were doing with that much peanut butter and explosives.

After a few seconds, his receptionist's voice came over the comm. "Admiral, I have Spock Prime on the line for you," she said, her crisp tones making him smile on the inside.

"Put him on," he said, turning the small screen on his desk towards himself. When the elderly Vulcan appeared on his screen, Pike leaned back and crossed his hands over his stomach. "To what do I owe the honor, Ambassador Spock?" he said, getting down to the meat of the conversation immediately. He knew that most Vulcans didn't appreciate dancing around the point. It was one of the reasons that he enjoyed them so much. They were a very straight forward people.

"Greetings, Admiral. I've been trying to reach my younger counterpart for some time now. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to raise him. I'm afraid that there may be a situation developing that will require him to journey here," the strongly featured face replied, steepling his hands in front of him.

Blinking his dark blue eyes, Pike tilted his head. "What situation would that be, Ambassador?" he asked, mildly shocked. Last report he'd read, Spock had been recovering nicely, and had even been cleared for duty again.

The Vulcan blinked twice before he responded. "I'm afraid it's something of a personal nature, Admiral. If you would, though, forward a message to him for me?" the new Ambassador to the Vulcan people asked, raising his eyebrows in inquiry.

Biting back his questions, the Admiral nodded. "Of course. Send it to my assistant, and she'll ship it out with my requisitions this afternoon," he replied, keeping his tone even.

"Thank you, Admiral," the Vulcan said, raising his hand in the traditional salute. "Live long and prosper."

"Live long and prosper," the Admiral returned, mirroring the man before he cut the connection.

Narrowing his eyes, he looked towards the door. "Yeoman Richards," he called over the intercom. "Get me the Enterprise, ASAP."

"Yes, Sir."

He waited impatiently for the woman to come back over the line, drumming his fingers on the desk. After a few minutes, he grabbed one of the data padds and tried to loose himself in his work, ignoring the feeling that he was missing something. It kept nagging at the back of his mind, distracting him from his work until he tossed the padd down on the desk and sipped at his coffee as he stared out at the late autumn sunshine.

"Sir, I'm afraid that I can't reach the Enterprise," his assistant's voice chimed over the intercom, startling Pike slightly.

Pursing his lips, the man sighed. "Get me the Admiral Burke," he said, the instincts that he'd relied on for decades whispering to him that something was going really wrong on the Enterprise. He pulled up her manifest on his screen and nodded. They'd missed their last two scheduled reports. Something was definitely up with the flag ship.

* * *

"Initiate evasive pattern four alpha!" Kirk yelled as sparks shot from the panel behind him. The ship lurched to the side, the starboard nacelle groaning. The ship dodged three torpedoes before a fourth smashed into the hull with the agonizing sound of tearing metal.

"Keptin, Ve haf lost shields!" Chekov reported as he rapidly worked his controls, trying desperately to re-route enough power to get the protective screens back into place.

Spock's calm voice broke through all of the confusion, forcing the Captain to take a deep breath as he turned to look at the man that had been haunting his every moment, both waking and sleeping, for a month now. "Captain, there are four more birds of prey coming in. I suggest that we retreat," he said calmly, his ebony hair catching the light from the consoles around him.

Kirk had to fight a momentary urge to go to the Vulcan and wrap him in his arms to keep him safe. He nodded briskly as sparks shot out of the communications station, making Uhura gasp and give a small scream. "Agreed! Chekov, get us the hell out of here!" he yelled, gripping his chair as the ship lurched sharply, throwing a blond crewman across the room.

Suddenly, there was a soft, familiar whine before five flashes alerted Kirk to the presence of intruders on the bridge. With an angry bellow, the Captain threw himself out of his chair and into the massive, armored chest of the closets Klingon. The man was shocked for no more than a second before he brought both his fists up, slamming them simultaneously into Kirk's chest.

With the wind knocked out of him, Kirk went down. He brought both his feet up, more glad than ever that he'd spent so many years of his life crawling in and out of various bar brawls. He kicked out, scoring a direct hit on the Klingon's genitals. The large man doubled over, the color draining out of his face as he grabbed a hold of his his unarmored area.

He turned around just in time to see Spock slam a fist into the broad nose of one Klingon just before another on came up behind him and grabbed him in a bear hug. Through their link, Kirk could feel the agony ripple through his first officer's body as his still tender ribs were squeezed. Not thinking, Kirk launched himself over the command chair. He landed on the alien that Spock had downed and kicked off the man's chest hard, hearing a very satisfying crack as the helm console sparked.

Spock gasped, his Vulcan strength matched pound for pound by the Klingon warrior that was holding him hostage. His feet dangled as the man slapped his hand and spoke harshly into a communications device attached to his palm.

Large, ebony eyes widened and stared into the human's blue ones for a fraction of a second before they started to disappear. Kirk screamed, grabbing for the Vulcan's sleeve just as his first officer disappeared into a cloud of photons. His fingers passed through empty air as he fell heavily to the bridge decking.

Shock settled in his chest as he realized that Spock was now a prisoner on board the Klingon's cruisers. He was pulled out of his reprieve, though, when his ship rocked again with the force of anther blast. He stared around the bridge, realizing that most of the senior staff that had been on the bridge were gone.

Quickly, he assumed the helm and sounded a call to arms. They were being boarded, and he'd be damned if he'd give up any more of his crew. He knew Spock was still alive, so he pushed the painful thoughts of what was going to happen to him to the back of his mind. There were five hundred crew members relying on him to do his job no matter what, and he wasn't going to let them down now.

With a few swift movements of his fingers, he finished rerouting the shields through the backup generators and began manuvering the ship out of there. He limped the nacelle along as he called down to engineering for more hands to fill in for the missing bridge crew members. The ship shuddered again as it was hit by a large volley of torpedoes from a pair of fresh war birds.

Kirk watched the shields start to fail for a second time and felt his heart drop into his stomach. They were going to fail and leave the ship defenseless, he knew it. There was no way they could be brought back up again if they failed. With a fleeting thought towards the Vulcan that he knew was somewhere in one of the ships, he brought the Enterprise about.

Taking a deep breath as a replacement gunner took the seat next to him, Kirk looked over and grinned. "Let's give em hell," he said fiercely, pushing the engines to their maximum as he headed towards the heart of the Klingon's squadron.

He dodged phaser blasts, determined to take out as many of the attacking ships as he could before his ship was blown to pieces. There was a second when he saw the lead ship dip slightly, preparing to fire, when he felt the world slow. His breath sounded loud in his ears as he stared death in the face.

Clarity settled over him as some knowledge that he could almost touch seemed to flutter within his reach. He flipped the controls, pushing the ship harder as he set a collision course for the lead bird of prey.

Suddenly, there was a flash of fire as one of the enemy vessels exploded. Torpedoes streaked past the almost crippled Enterprise, aimed directly for the Klingons. A second later, Kirk blinked as six Starfleet ships barreled past him headed towards the small squad of Klingons that had been about to destroy him.

Whoops sounded from the junior officers as the lead ship hailed them as they drove off the attacking ships. "Captain Kirk, I see you still haven't learned how to play well with others," a smallish Asian man with salt and pepper hair said, his face replacing the view of the battle raging outside.

"Captain Yang, I see they finally let you out of space dock without your walker," he replied, looking down at his console and scanning the escaping ships. He scowled when they ducked behind a moon and dropped off his sensor grid. He knew Spock and the others were on one of those ships, and he refused to let them escape now.

Laughter erupted from the little man on the screen. "Same old Kirk," Yang replied, turning his head to the side when his tactical officer called his name. "Let's get the hell out of here. It looks like those Klingons are calling for reinforcements that we can't handle."

The bottom dropped out of Kirk's stomach as he shook his head. "No can do, Yang. I've got people on those ships. We were boarded and they took most of my senior staff," he replied, refusing to admit defeat.

Shaking his head, the Asian man's eyes softened with sympathy. "We're not equipped to handle this kind of raid, Kirk. We've got to pull back and regroup," Yang reiterated, making a curt gesture to his science officer.

When Kirk didn't respond, the man sighed. "This isn't up for negotiation, Captain. I didn't risk my ship and crew to pull your ass out of the fire only to have you turn around and throw it all away. You aren't doing anyone any good with a crippled ship, Kirk," he reminded the sandy haired man.

Taking a deep, angry breath, Kirk looked down at the warning light on his console. His damaged nacelle was about to fail. "Understood, Captain Yang," he replied, unable to keep the anger out of it. He looked back at Uhura, the only one of his senior staff that had managed to keep from getting captured and nodded at her to kill the transmission.

'Hold on, Spock. I'm coming back for you,' he thought, as the transmission was cut and Yang's impassive face was replaced with a view of the debris filled battle field. An ache settled in his chest as he thought of his Vulcan first officer in the hands of the Klingons.

Forcing Spock to the back of his mind, he turned his attention to the ship and the crew that he still had.

No matter what else happened, he still had people that were depending on him. The first thing that you learned at the Academy, and the only lesson that the good cadets never forgot, was that no matter what the personal cost, you put the people under your command first before anything else. Even before the people that you cared about more than you'd like to admit.

* * *

Whoo. That was a hard chapter to write. :) Sorry it took me so long to update. Thanks to all the people who have reviewed and added my story to their favorates list. It's really encouraging.

Let me know what you think! Review!

Lee


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Look, I don't own Star Trek. If I did, I would have a MUCH much better looking desk chair. *sigh* As it is, I'll have to make due with owning nothing more than my own demented plot.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

Scowling, the Captain of the Enterprise leaned across his desk towards the monitor. He tried o get a grip on his temper, but it just kept slipping. "I realize that our resources are stretched a little thin right now, Admiral, but you're telling me that we can't spare enough men for this mission? What sense does that make?" he asked, unable to keep the low growl out of his voice.

Pike's eyebrows rose fractionally at the young Captain. "Kirk, your ship isn't even space worthy yet. You need at least four days in port before she'll fly again. I'm telling you that it'll take at least that long, maybe longer to get some more help out there. From what I hear, you've found what you were looking for, and it's a pretty decent size, too," the Admiral replied, unconsciously leaning back in his chair.

Sighing in irritation, Kirk ran a hand through his hair. "Anything could be happening to him while we just sit here and twiddle our thumbs!" Kirk replied as he stared at the man that had started him on his path to the Enterprise.

Blinking, the crippled man eyed the young Captain. "Is there something you need to tell me, son?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and folding his hands on the desk in front of him.

Closing his eyes, Kirk shook his head. "No, sir," he said, opening his eyes and licking his full lips. "I'm just worried about my officers."

'Especially Spock,' he thought with more than a hint of panic at the thought of the still weak Vulcan in the hands of the Klingons that had taken him.

Not looking convinced, Pike nodded slowly. "Look, you can't go anywhere with a busted up ship. Get the repair crews hustling and I'll talk to the rest of the Admirals and see if we can spare some more resources," he said, leaning back in his chair. His voice gentled as he continued, knowing that Kirk wouldn't want to admit the possibility that his crew might very well be beyond retrieval. "There is a chance, though, that they might not be coming back, Kirk. There's the very real possibility that they're dead."

Even before the Admiral had finished, Kirk was shaking his head. "No, sir. I know they're still alive," he said, his voice thick with a certainty that he couldn't explain to the man without revealing something that he knew Spock wouldn't want bandied about.

"I hope you're right, Kirk. I really do," the man said, shaking his head as he leaned forward to break the connection.

Rising from his desk chair, the Captain of the Enterprise paced the small quarters that had been given to him on base. His eyes roamed over the room, noting the lime green carpet and the powder blue of the walls with mild distaste. Whoever had been in charge of the color scheme in here had obviously attended the third year lecture on psychological torture.

Even before he knew his legs were moving he was pacing the small space. He bit his lower lip in concentration as he forced his mind to calm down. Maybe if he tried, he could reach out to Spock and let him know that he was coming. If the Vulcan knew that he was doing his best, it might help him endure whatever torture they were putting him through.

Kirk threw himself down onto his bunk and rubbed his hands over his face in exasperation. This was pointless. He wasn't telepathic. There was a better chance of him sneaking ice water into hell than touching the Vulcan's mind.

Scowling, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his temper. He could feel the warmth that had been growing steadily stronger in his mind for months now, and he knew that Spock was still alive. The connection was faint, though. Sighing, the Captain hoped that didn't mean that the Vulcan's life force was weak. Hopefully, it was just the distance between the two of them that made their link weaker.

Chewing on his bottom lip, the human stared up at his ceiling and forced himself to fall asleep. Now that his ship was mostly repaired, he would be able to head out soon with the seven other ships that were part of the rescue and recon mission. Even though he wanted to get out of bed and oversee the repairs himself, he knew that he needed to get some kind of sleep before they headed out. No one was going to get rescued by him if he couldn't focus.

"Spock," he sighed, throwing an arm over his eyes and sighing as he started to drift off.

Sucking in a painful breath, Spock ducked around the large Klingon's clumsy stab and chopped down on vulnerable wrist joint that wasn't protected by the man's armor. He slammed his knee upward into the armor around his solar plexus and backed away quickly as his attacker went down. The ring of Klingons that were surrounding them jeered at their fallen comrade, throwing insults towards the heavy alien who was slowly picking himself up off of the ground.

Spock ignored the pain that was rippling through his body, pushing it back and exerting his mental control so that he would be able to continue the fight. If he didn't finish this round soon, he knew that even his astounding stamina wouldn't be able to keep him upright and fighting.

The Klingon lunged at him, catching Spock off guard and knocking him to the floor. With a grunt, Spock's body reacted automatically even as stars danced in front of his eyes. He slammed his forehead into the Klingon's nose, but not before the large alien's hands closed around his neck and began squeezing.

With a growl, Spock flipped them over, wincing slightly as the man landed on his knee and wrenched it painfully. He punched the resilient man in the eye and knocked his hands away. When the grip on his neck was released, Spock rolled away and drew himself painfully to his feet.

Everything hurt from the roots of his hair that had been pulled repeatedly to the toe that he'd jammed kicking one Klingon in the head barefoot. He limped slightly as the man got to his feet, exaggerating the damage to his knee. During his time fighting the resilient man, he'd figured out that while incredibly strong the men that he'd been fighting didn't exactly excel at battle strategies.

Predictably, the Klingon lunged for his left side, but the Vulcan dodged nimbly and brought both his fists down on the unprotected back of the alien's neck. He stood, panting over the warrior as he waited for the man to get up or stay down. Spock knew that he'd only stunned the man, he could still see the heavy man's armor rising and falling with his breath.

When it was obvious that he wasn't going to get up, the guards that had brought him down to the arena tackled him to the deck and pulled both of his arms painfully behind his back. Vainly, Spock struggled against the metal cuffs that they locked around his wrists as they lifted him to his feet by his elbows and shoved him towards the corridor that lead back to the holding cells.

Still struggling, he was drug through the narrow halls of the ship towards his cell. He knew that the ship had been built by Klingons, was manned by Klingons, but he was pretty sure that this ship and all of the crew on it were now in the employ of someone else.

The sounds of screaming and pleading could be heard from the doors that they passed as the trio marched him down the hall. His sensetive ears picked out at least five different languages, though he didn't have time to translate most of it because of how muffled the sound was. A sense of dread settled into the pit of his stomach as they neared the small closet of a room that they'd stuffed him and his ship mates into.

When they reached his cell, the guard on his left flashed a key card in front of the small metal pad on the wall. The door slid open with a soft hiss of air, and he was tossed unceremoniously in, his hands still cuffed behind his back. Unable to catch himself, the Vulcan could only try to brace himself for the pain of his landing.

As he hit the decking, he felt his ribs scream in agony and he couldn't help but curl into a ball on the floor. The door closed with a solid clang behind him as the guards marched off, laughing and chatting in their native language. He took a deep breath, the scent of unwashed bodies thick in the air even as he heard Chekov's feet shuffle across the floor.

"Commander?" the Russian asked softly, laying a hand on the Vulcan's shoulder.

Shifting under the touch, Spock moved away from the hand and rolled slowly and painfully into a sitting position. As the senior officer here, he was responsible for the safety and well being of his comrades, but he was failing miserably. Each and every one of them had a collection of bruises, cuts, and welts.

Despite all of their injuries, none of them had been interrogated. They hadn't been asked about ship's codes, Fleet strength, nothing. There was no logic to it. If you were going to smash and grab the senior staff of a starship, why wouldn't you try to extract vital information out of them?

"Did they ask you anything?" Sulu asked quietly, his voice cracking as he looked up from where he had been cleaning the wound of a male Yeoman who had been caught on the bridge when the Klingons had attacked. Sulu's face was purple from bruising and there was a ring of black around his neck where one of the burlier Klingon's had tried to choke him out. The little Asian man had gutted him just before he'd passed out, using the warrior's own dagger against him.

Even though Spock was a pacifist, he'd had a hard time working up any sort of remorse towards the loss of that man's life.

Taking a deep breath, the Vulcan shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not," he replied, quietly. He looked at the faces of the four other men in the room and sighed. They were depending on him, and he was letting them down.

Without saying another word, Spock leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. His body ached abominably, but he would rather suffer in silence than burden his companions with his troubles. Admitting that he hurt wouldn't serve any real purpose.

Sighing inwardly, the Vulcan ignored the cold that was making him shiver through the thin cloth of his stained, dirty uniform and forced himself to go to sleep. He needed all of his wits about him, and he could never predict when the guards would decide that they wanted another crack at him.

Kirk strode off the lift, wiping his hands on the legs of his uniform pants to get the last smudges of black off of his hands. He'd just finished in engineering, and he was anxious to test the engines. He skipped down the steps of the deserted room before he slid easily into the helm position.

Flipping a few switches, he powered the warp core up, monitoring the energy relays to make sure that none of them blew. He tapped his fingers anxiously on the control panel as the power levels fluctuated slightly before they stabilized.

Grinning, the Captain pushed the intercom button. "Kirk to engineering, Scotty are you there?"

After a few second delay, the Scotsman's comforting brouge came over the line. "Now where in the hell else would I be? Mars?"

Shaking his head, the Captain rolled his eyes. "The levels are holding. How long until we're cleared to leave dock?" he asked, anxious to get out into space and start tracking Spock and the rest of his crew down.

"Looks like we should be ready to shove off in about three hours if these relays keep holdin the way they are," the engineer replied, before a loud clanking was heard over the intercom. "Would you stop throwing that? It's not going to make it work better, you idiot!"

With a soft chuckle, Kirk cut the connection and headed for the lift. He had just enough time to get in a shower and a shave before he gathered the rest of the Captains together and discussed just how they were going to go about getting his first officer and most of his bridge crew back.

As the lift doors opened, he blinked as he came face to face with Uhura. "Lieutenant," he said with a nod, stepping into the small space that had quickly become more of an unofficial office than just a means of getting from one deck to another. Maybe on the next ship design, they'd give him an office or a ready room or something.

"Captain," the woman said, looking away from him. She'd obviously been crying, her eyes swollen and red.

Licking his lips, Kirk stared at the doors. He took a deep breath, before he looked over at the woman. "It's not your fault, you know," he said quietly, clasping his hands behind his back. Crying people, women especially, had always made him more than just a little uncomfortable.

With a shuddering breath, she nodded. "I know," she said quietly.

Glancing over, Kirk's heart squeezed as he saw fresh tears leak out of her eyes and down her smooth, chiseled cheekbones. "Uhura," he sighed, reaching out and drawing her against his chest. "We'll get them back. I promise I won't give up until they're home." He laid his head on top of hers, giving her a gentle squeeze.

A sob broke out of her throat before the communications officer nodded into his chest. "After everything that he's been through," her muffled voice said into his chest.

Closing his eyes, Kirk's hands tightened in the red fabric of her uniform. 'Spock,' he thought, chanting the one name that had been running through his mind over and over since the day the Vulcan had disappeared from the bridge.

He'd been so wrapped up in his own mind, he hadn't even thought of what the bond between the two of them had done to his relationship with Uhura. The two of them hadn't exactly been lovey dovey lately to the best of his knowledge, but it's not like he and Spock sat around on Saturday nights painting each other's toes and gossiping about their love lives.

They'd never even really discussed the communications officer currently sobbing into his uniform coat.

His lips tingled as he remembered the heated kisses that the two of them had shared in his quarters. He unconsciously licked his lips as he remembered the spicy, alien taste of Spock's lips. The pads of his fingers tingled as he remembered how hot and silky the Vulcan's skin had felt.

Kirk didn't even know if Spock was gay, straight, bi, or asexual.

Sighing in mild disgust at himself for his selfish behavior, he gently pried the woman off of his shirt. "Look, we're going to get him back," he said, forcing himself to give her a confident smile. "I promise."

Reaching up, the woman brushed the tears off of her face and nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break down on you like that," she said, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Break down like what?" he asked, turning and looking back towards the doors of the lift just before they opened. He stepped out onto his deck before he looked back at the woman and nodded.

As the doors shut, he saw a flash of gratitude in her dark eyes that made his stomach twist in guilt. She was in love with the Vulcan, and all Kirk could think about was how good it had felt to have the Vulcan's strong body mostly naked under him.

Feeling slightly ashamed of himself, the blonde man turned and made his way back to his quarters so that he could shower and change his uniform.

Spock winced as Sulu shook his shoulder, pulling him out of the restless sleep that he'd fallen into. "What is it, Lieutenant?" he asked, his voice slightly scratchy as he forced his eyes to open.

"Mr. Spock, they're coming," the battered Asian man replied quietly, looking towards the door.

Seconds after Sulu issued his warning, the electronic lock on the door clicked open and the heavy bulkhead slid back to reveal two Klingon warriors.

"You, Vulcan. On your feet, you filth," the taller one growled in heavily accented Standard.

Wearily, Spock struggled to his feet. As he felt himself start to sway, he locked his knees, refusing to show weakness in front of the aliens. "How may I be of assistance?" he asked, steepling his hands in front of him.

Sneering, the shorter guard grabbed Spock's upper arm and hauled him bodily out of the cell before giving him a shove forward.

Taking a deep, painful breath, the Vulcan licked his dry lips as he stumbled down the hallway towards the Arena area.

The situation looked grim.

Spock knew that he had at least three broken ribs, if not more. His last battle had wrenched his knee, and it was only through sheer force of will that he kept himself from limping. Despite the stupidity of his opponents, they still hurt him every time he fought them. A wave of despair washed over him as he saw the junction coming up that led to large space where the battles were being held.

He didn't know if he could survive much longer.

When the Klingon guards at his back prodded him down a new corridor, he blinked. A small flicker of hope blossomed inside of him before his emotional control could squash it. He forced his steps to remain steady as they walked down towards a destination unknown.

"Stop here," the guard ordered, reaching out and pushing a door chime.

The door whooshed open, and Spock blinked once before he gained control over his expression as he came face to face with a rather short, fat Orion man.

The man wrinkled his nose at Spock's appearance. "Could you have at least showered him before you brought him here? Ignorant fools," he grumbled, turning and marching into the rather nicely appointed quarters. "Bring him in here. Hopefully, you haven't broken him completely."

Spock winced inwardly as the guards pushed him roughly into the center of the room. He swallowed as dread formed a hard lump in his stomach. The little green man's rich clothing and jewelry signified his station within his society.

He was a slaver. A rather successful one by the size of the gemstones glittering on his fingers.

Sorry about the length of time in between updates! I had this idea for a story that I just had to write down, and it wouldn't let me get back to this chapter until it was written. :) Hopefully, now that I've given the monster that is 'Ties' life, I'll be able to work more on the next chapter.

Thank you to everyone who's added my story to your alerts or favorites. I really appreciate how well Frozen has been received. Hopefully, you'll let me know how you liked this chapter with reviews. I'll write faster with reviews, I swear. =)

Lee


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: I own nothing except random plot bunnies and original characters. :P

WARNING: This chapter is a little graphic. There's mild torture, Spock abuse, and some violence.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

A/N : This is probably one of the worst chapters for poor Spock, but it does get better towards the end of it. Please forgive my Spock abuse. :)

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Viciously, the restraints on Spock's wrists and ankles bit into his already blood slicked skin as he bucked off of the table. The pain from his limbs was nothing compared to the burning sensation of the brand that was being pressed against the tender skin of his left pectoral. His dark eyes squeezed shut as he fought the urge to scream.

Tears gathered behind his eyelids, but Spock held them back. He would not shame his race, small as they were, by crying. His breath hitched as the branding iron was removed and he fought down the wave of nausea that came when he caught the scent of his own burnt flesh.

"He's strong. All the others screamed like women," the Orion who'd branded him said as Spock heard him move away from the table.

Panting, Spock allowed his eyes to open slightly. His eyes focused with difficulty on the symbol that was now branded into his chest. He barely glimpsed it before his head was slammed back onto the table by the not so gentle hand of the man, who had taken charge of him after he'd been strapped to thas table.

"Your men sure did a number on him. I'd be surprised if he didn't have internal injuries. We almost had to cut our losses on the human male," the man said, scowling over at the slaver.

With a resigned sound, the slaver waved his hand dismissively. "They're Klingons," he said, as if that explained everything.

Shaking his head, the man grabbed a tricorder off of the counter and waved it in Spock's direction. "He's five broken ribs and some internal bleeding. It's a wonder that was able to stand. Vulcan's are so remarkable," the man said, a cruel light shining in his white-blue eyes.

Spock's eyes closed as he concentrated on controlling the pain. His hands remained fisted as he felt the blood seep out of his bare wrists and ankles. His eyes flew open, though, when he felt the boxers that had been his only clothing being ripped off.

"Does his buyer want him fully functional?" the doctor asked, motioning towards Spock's groin.

The Vulcan glanced over at the slaver who was studying his naked body with detached, clinical interest. "I'm not sure, but let's not take any chances with something that can't re grow," the slaver said, shrugging and leaning against the wall.

Relief flooded through Spock as the man shrugged and put down a rather sharply looking scalpel. He felt almost light headed through the rest of the man's inspection of him. The idea of being made into an Eunuch had been rather disturbing.

"Will he recover in time for his new owner to come for him?" he asked.

Spock closed his eyes and lay his head back on the table. He took as deep a breath as he could, trying to keep his emotions in check. It had been a week since he'd been brought into the man's chambers and told that he was now a slave. When he'd tried to deny it, the slaver had simply laughed at him.

"I certainly hope so," the doctor said, from his position near Spock's head.

The whirl of a tricorder was heard before a hypospray was pressed into his neck, delivering a shot of pain killers that Spock readily welcomed.

There was the sound of rustling cloth as the slaver moved over towards the door. "Plant the chip, doctor, but don't do anything else. This one was a custom order, and if the merchandise is tainted, we're going to have a hefty loss to cover," the despicable man said before he left Spock alone with the "Doctor".

'Jim, where are you?' Spock thought with despair, pulling his mind deep within itself so that he could block out the sights, sounds, and smells of the terrible room that was passing off as a sickbay.

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Spock winced as he was pushed onto his knees by a burly Klingon guard. The man grabbed a hold of his hair, forcing him to look down even as the muscles in his back and neck screamed from the uncomfortable position. His arms strained against the shackles that were attached to his wrists and elbows. Once they'd figured out that he could pick the cuffs given enough time, they'd started attaching a second set.

"As you can see, the specimen that we got for you is resourceful as well as strong. We managed to capture him on the bridge of a starship. He was wearing a uniform of a science officer," the slaver said, walking over and slapping the guard's hand away from Spock's hair so that he could lift his face for inspection.

When his face was raised, Spock forced his expression to remain blank as he stared at his new 'owner'.

A strong, arrogant face stared back at him. The man's face was sharply chiselled, his cheekbones tall under his naturally bronzed skin. Thick, dark ebony lashes surrounded the most unusual golden color eyes that Spock had ever seen. Full, lush lips pulled into a scowl as the Romulan looked from Spock to the slaver standing behind him.

"I asked for a Vulcan telepath, not this half dead shell," he said, the rich tones of his voice conveying his displeasure.

Blinking, the slaver pulled Spock's head farther back. He looked down into Spock's eyes with more than a hint of anger written on his jowly features. "He's still got a lot of spirit. It's the best you're going to get on such short notice and this far out," the man coaxed, obviously trying to salvage as much as possible from the sale.

Scowling, the Romulan looked down at Spock. His eyes narrowed as he leaned down to study the Vulcan's face closer. He reached up with a gloved hand and grabbed Spock's chin in a firm, but not bruising grip. He turned the man's face from side to side, studying his bones structure and the bruising on his pale skin.

Spock caught a hint of the man's spicy, clean scent. He felt a shame wash over him in a wave as the man studied him as if he were nothing more than a piece of equipment, waiting to be bought or sold. He lowered his eyes, looking down at the man's perfectly polished boots.

His body ached; the damage he sustained during the shuttle accident had been exacerbated by the beatings that he'd taken after the capture. The brand on his skin had scabbed over, but it still ached abominably every time the thin synthetic shirt, that they'd given him to wear, brushed over it. Defeat hung heavily over him. He'd all but given up the hope that he would be rescued.

Logic told him that he needed to cooperate with these men as best as he was able to, until he could form a plan for escape. Emotionally, though, he'd almost given up the hope that Kirk was going to come for him.

"How bad is the damage? I'm not paying for something that I'm going to have to nurse back to health," the Romulan said as his gloved thumb brushed over a deep green bruise on Spock's cheek.

The slaver sighed. "Sadly, my men were slightly angry at the loss of four of our ships. They gave him quite a beating, but nothing that he can't work though. I didn't think that you were going to use him for manual labour, so it shouldn't be too much of an issue," the Orion said, stroking his hand over Spock's hair.

With a soft grunt, Spock ripped his head away from the man's hands. He hated to be touched by anyone, but this man's mind was a cesspool of disgusting emotions. When he was slapped hard across the face, he lost his balance and fell against the Romulan's legs.

Automatically, the man's hands closed over Spock's arms to steady him. Wincing as the man's fingers dug into his arm, Spock felt a trickle of blood slide down his chin. He took a deep breath as he tried to wiggle out of the Romulan's hands.

Snorting in amusement, the Romulan released him. "I like spirit in my slaves. Makes breaking them twice as fun," he said with a smirk. "I'll take him, but not at the price that you quoted. You're giving me damaged goods here, Tranus."

The slaver made an indignant noise. "He is still functional," he whined. "We even branded him with your house emblem, just in case."

When the man reached for his shirt, Spock's shoulder shifted to block the man access to his body. The idea of that man's hands on him again made him almost physically ill. "Don't touch me," he said quietly, his voice empty of all emotion.

As the slaver's hand pulled back to deliver another blow, the Romulan's hand reached out and grabbed a hold of the man's green wrist. "If you damage him anymore, I'm not going to buy him. You're lucky I'm even deigning to buy him now, as pitiful as he is," he said quietly.

"Whatever you say," the man said, giving Spock a look that promised retribution. "If you'll follow me, I've got refreshments set up in my quarters. We can discuss prices more privately and I'll have your new slave loaded onto your shuttle."

When the slaver had led the tall Romulan out of the room, the Klingon guarding Spock hauled him to his feet and shook him slightly. Spock kicked out, landing a solid blow to the man's groin. Growling in pain and fury, the guard tackled the Vulcan and pinned him to the floor.

As the guard squeezed his badly injured ribs, Spock couldn't stop the cry of agony that escaped his lips, before he slammed his head back into the guard's nose. When the man's grip loosened, he rolled them over and wiggled out of the man's arms.

The Klingon was stunned on the deck, and Spock felt a haze of anger break through his control. He struggled to his feet, ignoring everything else in the room as he leapt into the air and landed on the Klingon's chest with the full weight of his body.

A sickening, yet satisfying cracking noise was the last thing that he heard before he felt the burn of a phaser hitting him square in the back.

"Jim..." he whispered as he fell, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

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"We're nearing your compound now, Preator," a soft, musical voice intruded on Spock's unconsciousness.

There was the sound of rustling cloth near Spock's head before a soft sigh escaped from what the Vulcan assumed was the Preator. "Thank you, Sub Commander," the voice of the man that had been arguing with the Orion slaver replied.

Spock's whole body stiffened as his mind woke up enough to process the implications of what he was hearing. A Preator was a very high rank in the Romulan command structure. It was someone that was answerable only to the leader of the senate.

Suddenly, the Vulcan felt much more vulnerable.

"You're awake. Good," the man's voice said from above him.

Dark, intelligent eyes opened to stare around the shuttle. He was laying on the floor of the passenger area on the rather nicely appointed shuttle. Next to his head, the Preator's boots shifted slightly as the man leaned down to look him over.

"Where are we?" Spock asked; his voice slightly rough from disuse.

The Preator raised an eyebrow before he folded his hands in front of him. "You are to address me as Vadi, slave," he replied in a cold tone, giving Spock the Romulan word for 'Master'. "As for where we are, that is none of your concern. Your only worry now should be how to best please your Master. I've gone to great lengths to procure you. You should be grateful."

Pressing his lips together, Spock decided that discretion was the better part of valor. He looked towards the front of the shuttle, seeing the heavy clouds that the ship was passing through. A bolt of lightning slashed through them, illuminating the inside of the shuttle with a harsh light for a second.

Licking his lips, Spock shifted on the plush carpeting. His muscles hurt from laying in one position for too long, and he couldn't feel his arms. He knew they were still cuffed, though, by the faint tinkle he heard from the chains when he tried to bring his arms around.

The only thing that had changed was the fact that he wasn't as cold as he usually was. Romulans, apparently, had similar temperature requirements as Vulcans.

After a few seconds, the shuttle sat down with a solid thump. Pain shot through Spock's body at the sudden jolt, and he sucked in a breath. He closed his eyes to give himself a second to regain control again.

"Take him to his new rooms and guard him well. If he escapes, I'll hold you personally responsible," the Preator ordered. "Make sure he bathes and is given decent clothing."

"Yes, Preator," the Sub Commander replied, his voice shaded with fear.

Spock's eyes opened just as the Romulan stepped out of the ship and disappeared into the storm outside. He looked over at the officer that was left with him in the shuttle. The man's slim build did nothing to hide the cunning confidence that followed his every movement. This Romulan was competent.

In his current state, Spock had no chance of escape.

"Can you stand?" the man asked, his Standard slightly accented.

Nodding, Spock rolled himself onto his stomach and bit the inside of his cheek as he fought for control over the pain. He struggled to sit up for a few moments before he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. The hand pulled him up into a kneeling position before the Sub Commander stepped back out of Spock's immediate reach.

Painfully making his way to his feet, the Vulcan nodded to the man and waited patiently for him to lead the way.

Keeping out of his reach, the Romulan slipped out through the door. He motioned for Spock to keep close to him and the second pilot followed them out. When the hatch to the shuttle sealed, Spock forced his mind away from the despair that welled up in him and focused on following the man in front of him.

As he was led through the hallways, he carefully built a mental map, noting every entrance and exit that they passed, until the Romulan in front of him stopped and opened a thick door.

"This is the room that you may use for tonight," the officer said, motioning Spock through. He turned Spock with as little contact as possible and uncuffed his hands before indicating a doorway. "The bathing room is through that door. I suggest you bathe quickly. Your Vadi isn't known for his patience."

Blinking at the unfamiliar Romulan term, Spock looked after the man as he closed the door and engaged the lock.

Sighing, Spock turned to the room and looked around at the simple, Spartan interior. It was an entirely impersonal chamber. There was no decoration. Even the blankets were a plain, simple grey. There was a single twin bed pushed against the wall with a small nightstand next to it. There was also a recess in the wall, that suggested one might be able to hang clothing there, and four small wall sconces scattered around at even intervals, so that the room was bathed in a soft golden light.

Knowing that he was most likely under surveillance, Spock quickly did a sweep of the room, bending down slowly as he tried to fight down the agony that was ripping through him. After seeing nothing under the bed or in the closet, he examined the wall sconces before moving into the other room.

The bathing room was smaller than most that he'd seen. It was only about three by four meters, its walls tiled with simple beige ceramics. There was a sink, a head, and a small alcove that he assumed was for showering. Sitting on the edge of the sink there was a plain white towel and a cake of soap.

Licking his lips, the Vulcan looked towards the shower area and sighed. He was naturally fastidious by nature, and the craving to be clean again was almost overwhelming in its intensity. It had been over a month since he'd been allowed to be clean.

Quickly, Spock stripped off the remnants of what had once been a very nicely pressed Starfleet uniform and headed for the shower. He stepped in and gently pressed the controls. His eyes snapped open and he jerked back in surprise as an icy water poured over his already chilled skin.

His foot slipped on the tile just as he hit the controls again, sending hot water pouring down on him as he landed painfully on the bottom of the shower floor. For a second, the Vulcan lay there stunned. His body couldn't process all of the pain at once. The water warmed him, but he couldn't seem to make himself stand up.

He heard the lock click open seconds before the Romulan Preator stood in the doorway.

Shame settled deep in Spock's bones as he closed his eyes and tried to push himself up. His arms collapsed under him, though, sending him sprawling back onto the cold tile.

Gloved hands slipped under his arms as the man grunted with the effort of pulling Spock to his feet. "Did you injure yourself?" the Preator asked, looking Spock's bruised and battered body up and down.

Shaking his head, Spock forced himself to look up and meet the Romulan's eyes. The man raised one eyebrow as he stared down at the Vulcan. "No," he answered, his voice flat and emotionless.

"You will address me as Vadi," the man said, stepping back once he was sure Spock wasn't going to fall. "It is a Romulan term for Master."

Blinking back at the man, Spock kept the fruitless denial from slipping out of his lips. He tilted his head, ignoring the slight discomfort that he felt at being naked in front of a complete stranger. "Why have I been brought here?" he asked.

Before he could blink, the Romulan's hand stretched across the distance between them and delivered a sharp, stinging blow to his face. "You will address me as Vadi," he repeated quietly, his eyes steady in their regard of the Vulcan.

Forcing his hands to remain at his side, he blinked at the man. He simply nodded, feeling the water run down his back. The steam clouded the air slightly, giving the man a slightly ethereal quality as he turned away from Spock. With a hint of confusion, the Vulcan watched the man strip off his gloves.

When he saw the man slip the weapon's belt off, he stiffened slightly and took an involuntary step backwards. He watched with growing anxiety as the man took of his uniform jacket and tugged his shirt over his head. Once he was nude, the Romulan turned back towards the shower where Spock was standing.

Carefully keeping his face blank, the Vulcan resisted the urge to flinch as the man picked up the bar of soap and stepped towards the shower area. He was obviously a warrior; his muscles toned and sleek under his pale skin. There was a small tattoo on his upper chest, just above where his heart would be, with the same symbol that was branded into Spock's chest.

"Turn around," the man ordered as he stepped into the shower with Spock.

When the Vulcan didn't comply immediately, the Romulan Preator's eyebrows drew together in annoyance. He reached out and grabbed Spock's shoulder, turning him to face the wall forcibly. Slowly, the Romulan began running the soap over the tense muscles of Spock's back.

With each brush of the Romulan's skin, Spock felt his body tense more and more. He could sense the man's emotions every time their bodies touched, and he shuddered softly as the man's lust became more and more apparent.

Carefully keeping his mind blank in case the man had some telepathic ability, he turned his head to stare at the Romulan that was very gently massaging the tender muscles of his very sore body. "I can wash myself," he said softly, blinking away the hot water that was running down his face and into his eyes.

The irritation that was transmitted to him through the man's touch was instantaneous. He couldn't stop the flinch that slipped past his control seconds before he felt the stinging slap on his rear. Carefully, he buried the humiliation and anger that wanted to break through. Emotions wouldn't do him any good here. They would only make the situation worse.

When the man's gold eyes narrowed slightly, Spock kept his face carefully blank.

"So you're enough of a telepath read me. Interesting," the man said before he resumed washing Spock's shoulders and back.

Swallowing, Spock took a step forward out of the man's reach. "I am a touch telepath," Spock clarified, holding out his hand for the soap.

The commander reached up and slicked back the beads of water that had started to run down his forehead and into his eyes. "Good," he said, setting the soap down on the shelf in the shower area. "Then I don't need to explain to you what I want. Now you can either let me wash you, or I can add to your marvellous collection of bruises."

When the steel in the man's voice echoed around the tiled room, Spock let his eyes shut as he took a deep breath and admitted his defeat. He stood stoically still as the man washed him from head to toe, only wincing occasionally when he hit a particularly painful spot. When every inch of his body had been washed and Spock felt thoroughly humiliated the Romulan shut off the water and stepped out of the shower.

'Where are you, Jim?' he thought bleakly as he saw the Romulan turn back to him with a decidedly lusty look in his eyes.

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Sorry about the length of this chapter. It just decided not to have a cut off. Thank you to eveyone who reviewed this last chapter! And a special thanks to my new Beta, Camiyo. The next chapter should have something with Kirk in it. My muse has a really good idea for me.

Thanks for all of your support!

Lee


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the random words that I've made up and the plot line of this story. This chapter will contain graphic scenes that may not be suitable for children under the age of concent. It will contains naked men with other naked men on beds. If you have an aversion to such things... well, if you did you wouldn't have read this far anyways. :D

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

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It had been four months since Spock had been taken from him, and James T Kirk was starting to lose hope. After a few days of careful inquiries, he'd found the slaver that had sold the members of his crew. During the interrogation he'd found out the only reason that his ship had been attacked at all was because a Vulcan had been detected on board.

The slaver had squealed louder than a struck pig.

Apparently, Spock had been sold to a very wealthy man who'd wanted a travel companion with telepathic abilities. He claimed that he didn't know the name of the man, or even what species he'd been. He did, however, provide much more useful information on the other missing members of his crew.

Kirk had managed to find Chekov two weeks later on a mining colony near the Klingon boarder. The Russian had been half dead by the time the Enterprise had pulled him out. Bones had been horrified at the malnutrition, dehydration, and physical abuse of the man. The normally calm and gentle southern doctor had broken the Head of the colonies nose before he'd been forcibly taken back to the ship.

Chekov had cried when he was finally on board, sobbing so hard that he'd had to be carried to sickbay by two of the burlier of the crew members.

The yeoman that had been taken hadn't even made it off the slavers ship. He'd been beaten to death by the guards shortly before the Russian had been sold, Chekov had managed to tell him before he'd been forced away to surgery.

Kirk stared at the view screen, letting his mind wander over the possibilities for where Spock had gone. He'd even gone so far as to contact the Vulcan government and Spock Prime to ask them for assistance. The Vulcan's had been dismayed to learn that one of their last remaining members of their species had disappeared, but their official position on it was that they were unwilling to risk any more of their people on such a hopeless endeavour.

Even Starfleet had given up hope on the Vulcan and the Asian man that had been taken with him. Sulu and Spock were both reported MIA. When he'd had to message Sulu's mother and father to tell them that their son was missing, his heart had broken when he'd seen the woman's face crumple.

Sulu had been their only child.

The Captain sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling the warmth in the back of his mind that he'd come to rely on. That warmth was the only thing that gave him any hope that the Vulcan was still alive somewhere in the universe. As long as he could still feel the brush of the raven haired man's mind, he would never give up the search for him.

"Captain," the new science officer's voice rubbed over Kirk's nerves like sandpaper. "We've completed our survey of this system."

Forcing himself to stay polite, the sandy haired man nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant Ichigo," he replied automatically, lifting the data PADD that he'd been trying to review up and scrolling through it. It was a supply request for the astronomy lab. Setting it down, he stood up and headed for the lift.

"Mr. Dravidoff, you have the bridge," he ordered as the lift doors shut.

When the lift opened, he paced down the hall and stopped in front of the steel grey door to Spock's quarters. He'd never gone inside them before, but he'd stood outside of them more times than he could count, trying to absorb some of the Vulcan's presence from the place that he'd spent most of his free time.

On an impulse, he quickly danced his fingers over the security panel. He punched in his code, overriding the security lock out and stepping inside of the dim room.

Heat blasted him as the doors shut, reminding him of the time that he'd ended up wandering through a small piece of the Vulcan's mind. He inhaled deeply through his nose, catching the faint scent of Spock's favourite incense as well as the scent that seemed unique to Spock alone.

Slowly, feeling his stomach tighten with a rush of adrenaline, he walked around the room. It felt like the Vulcan was going to walk in on him at any and demand to know what Kirk was doing in his inner sanctum. He reached out and ran his fingers over the delicate incense holder that was sitting on the coffee table in the regulation living room.

On the wall behind the couch hung a black tapestry with a strange Vulcan symbol embroidered on it in a silver thread. He tilted his head and walked around the table, reaching out and running his fingers over the surprisingly soft fabric. The symbol seemed so delicate that Kirk didn't want to risk touching it too heavily.

Licking his lips, Kirk turned towards the small alcove where he knew Spock's bed would be. He silently stepped over to the doorway, looking in and seeing the rumpled bedding. The sheets were tangled with a thick blanket, bunched at the foot of the bed as if Spock had been having bad dreams when he'd woken for duty the morning of his abduction.

Taking a deep breath, the human stepped into the man's bedroom, noting that beside the bed, the room was almost sterile in its cleanliness. Not a thing was out of place. Even the small comb that Spock would have used before he left his quarters for his duty shift was perfectly aligned with the hair brush.

It made Kirk want to walk over and turn them all sideways.

Fighting the childish impulse, the Captain walked over to the bed and touched one of Spock's pillows. He traced the slight dip in the one on the right hand side. He gave a half smile as he realized that Spock must have slept on the right hand side of the bed. Idly, he wondered if the Vulcan favoured sleeping on his stomach, back, or side.

Closing his eyes, the Captain sighed as grief welled up inside of him. Spock should be here, right now, sleeping on these pillows, using his comb, staring at his tapestry, but he wasn't. Instead, the Vulcan was god knows where being forced to do god knows what. He sat down on the edge of the bed, weariness draining him of all of his strength.

'It should have been me,' he thought, closing his eyes tightly to keep the tears that threatened from spilling over. Even though he'd only known the man for a few months, he felt slightly lost without him. Like a boat that couldn't find a shore.

Flopping back onto the messy bed, the Captain kicked off his boots before he curled up in the middle of the bed. He sighed before he grabbed Spock's pillow and smothered himself with it, breathing in the man's scent. Slowly, muscles that he didn't even know he had relaxed as he felt Spock all around him.

He kept his eyes closed and his face buried in the linen covering the pillow, inhaling the alien scent of the man that he'd been accidentally bonded to.

'Jim...' he heard his name being called softly just as he drifted off to sleep, making his eyes jerk open as he sat up and looked around. He could have sworn that he had heard the Vulcan call his name.

Rubbing his hands roughly over his face, the Captain swung his legs over and headed quickly for the door. Feeling more than slightly foolish, he locked the room behind him and strode to the gym. He hadn't been able to bring himself to touch another person since the night that Spock had explained everything to him, and he needed to work off some of the restless energy and tension that had been building in him.

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Spock waited as long as he could before he left what was now his permanent room. He shivered slightly as he walked down the marble hallways, his bare feet making no noise on the cold marbled stone of the hallway. The weak winter light that filtered in through the open windows did nothing to warm the winter air of the cold little planet that Spock had been taken to days before. His master had decided that he didn't need proper winter clothing as a form of punishment for the last time he'd fought against the man's advances, so the thin pants and sheer, sleeveless tunic that he was now being forced to endure only added to the feeling of degredation that he felt.

As he walked down the nearly deserted hallway, he kept his hands clasped in front of him and his head down. His eyes flicked up for a second through his lashes as the click of military boots sounded around the corner. Quickly, he stepped to the side of the hall and knelt on the cold marble as the Preator's second clicked his way down the hallway.

The Romulan officer slowed and leered at him, licking his lips, but not stopping. Spock was the property of the Preator, and if he was touched by anyone else, they would both pay dearly as one guard had found out the hard way. That was one thing that had been made very clear to him by the possessive officer. While it kept him safe from the other Romulans, Spock still chafed under the rules of his new place in the world.

After nearly a month in the Romulan's care, he'd almost given up on any chance of a rescue. Hope was illogical. He couldn't sit around and wait for Starfleet or his people to come for him. Most likely, the Vulcan High Council wouldn't send anyone anyways. The needs of the many always outweighed the needs of the few, or the one.

He'd had even less hope after they'd left Romulus and had moved to this remote planet somewhere in the outter reaches of Romulan space. The Preator was running a campain from here, so it had kept him from Spock for a few days now. Unfortunately for the Vulcan, the war games had ended and his Master had returned that morning.

Up until that point, the officer had been more than patient, contenet with touching and stroking Spock gently. It had embarassed the Vulcan to no end the first time he'd actually climaxed due to his Master's gentle, expert hands. He hadn't been asked to reciprocate the Romulan's affections. The ebony haired former officer had a feeling, though, that the man's patience was running out.

So he'd submitted to the Preator, forcing down the powerful feelings of outrage and shame that he felt every time the Romulan forced him to his will. Closing his eyes, the Vulcan strengthened his mental barriers, knowing that the officer had a hint of the telepathy that ran strongly in most of Spock's people. The one time he'd been careless and had let his anger and outrage slip, he'd been punished severely.

When the man had disappeared around the corner, Spock rose gracefully to his feet and hurried down the hallway towards his Master's chambers.

Silently, the Vulcan slipped into the room and knelt next to the fireplace, letting the warmth of the flames chase the chill away from his skin. At his master's main house on Romlus, the desert climate was more suited to his needs. Here, on this planet, it was much cooler during the winter months.

And the fact that he wasn't allowed more than the minimum amount of clothes to cover his body didn't help at all.

Patiently, he waited as the man finished up the subspace call to the capitol, discussing matters of little to no importance with the commanders of one of his fleet vessels. As he sat, he closed his eyes and took deep breaths, mentally preparing himself for whatever the man had in mind.

Some days, he knelt here for hours waiting for the Preator to finish his business. Other days, he sat here for only a few minutes before the Romulan deigned to notice him. Today, it appeared that he'd have to wait.

A warm, slightly calloused hand slipped down his quickly growing hair until it stroked the soft skin at the nape of his neck, startling the Vulcan. He hadn't even heard his Master approach. The larger man moved with more stealth than Spock would have ever thought possible. Once, he'd watched his master move up behind one of the guards that had dared to touch him and broken his neck without making a single sound except for the sigh of the man's last breath.

"My apologies for making you wait," the Romulan said, rubbing his hands over Spock's soft skin.

Inclining his head, the Vulcan didn't say anything, having learned that silence was better most of the time with the Preator. He'd had one too many lashes from the man's angry whip when he'd been disobedient to fight him on something as silly as an answer.

Smiling, the Romulan walked back over to his console. "Come here, Spock," he said, using the Vulcan's name for the first time.

Slowly, the Vulcan got to his feet, carefully making his way over to where the Romulan was sitting in his office chair. Keeping his head down, Spock stopped next to the Romulan's chair and dropped to his knees again. "How may I be of assistance, Vadi?" he asked quietly, his rich tenor voice easily being heard over the quiet hum of the large bank of computers.

His fingers itched to touch the beautiful piece of machinery. It seemed like forever since he'd feet the cool, smooth panel of a computer console under his fingers. His Vadi had a very powerful computer in his private rooms, one that was probably capable of sending a subspace signal to Starfleet. Unfortunately, he knew that the computer was coded to accept only the Preator's input and no one else's. Only the genetic code of the Romulan could access even the simplest systems.

Holding himself completely still, the Vulcan kept his shields strong, holding the Romulan out of his mind as the man's hands stroked absently over his hair. When the man's fingers danced over the sensitive tips of his ears, the Vulcan couldn't suppress a shiver as tingles danced up and down his spine.

The Romulan smiled at the involuntary reaction from him. He felt the pleasure and triumph that emanated from the man as his fingertips trailed back down the lobe until he rested the palm of his hand against Spock's neck. The Vulcan had to force himself not to shy away from the touch, keeping his muscles relaxed and pliant.

Keeping his eyes down, he closed the eyes that had always betrayed him the most. They were his mother's eyes, the eyes that were human in all but colour. He knew that if he was to look up, he'd be punished again because of the anger and shame that he knew were shining through his almost black eyes.

Slowly, the Preator slipped his hand under the man's chin and tugged his face upward. Spock kept his eyes shut, letting the tip of his tongue slip out from in between his lips to wet the soft skin. He felt the Preator's sharp eyes focus in on his mouth and he parted them. Hopefully, the man would take him and then let him go back to his rooms. He was still very unsure of this man and what he wanted.

When the warm, soft lips touched his own, Spock held his mental shield for everything he was worth. If the man were to get a hint of the anger and anguish that were rolling his stomach into knots, he would be punished again. He forced his lips to mould against the Romulan's. His mind studied it from a purely scientific point of view, noting that the man had a similar body temperature. It was even a little bit higher than his own due to the cold that he'd been exposed to on his walk over.

"Open your eyes," the Romulan whispered into the kiss, sliding off of his chair and kneeling on the floor in front of the Vulcan.

Swallowing, Spock trailed his fingertips down the front of the man's uniform jacket, letting his eyes open and focus in on the tips of his fingers. He tilted his head to the side as the man's hand slipped under his chin again, trying to force his gaze upwards. Pain had never motivated him until he'd come under the care of the Preator and his devices.

"Shiavo, open your eyes and look at me," the Romulan's voice was commanding, demanding his obedience.

The Vulcan looked up automatically, praying that his eyes wouldn't betray him again. Relief washed through him as the man smiled softly and leaned forward again, apparently pleased with what he'd seen in the dark chocolate depths of Spock's eyes. With a slight bit of unease at the man's mercurial mood, the Vulcan closed the distance between their lips. He rested his hands on his thighs, having been trained to never touch his Vadi unless instructed to do so.

Apparently, though, this wasn't what the Romulan wanted. After a few seconds of gentle kissing, the man pulled back and sighed with a hint of irritation. Immediately, the Vulcan pulled his head back and rested back on his heels. His eyes dropped to the black uniform pants that the man wore and he studied the weave of the fabric as he considered what he could do to keep the man from becoming angry.

"Vadi," he began, keeping his voice lowered to just above a whisper, "How may I assist you?"

When the hand connected with his face, he'd been completely unprepared for the blow, and he lost his balance. He caught himself on his hands and forced himself to remain still. If he ran, he knew the beating would be much worse. During his training, he'd tried to escape once, and once only. Pushing himself back up, he ignored the sting in his cheek from the slap and kept his eyes downcast.

"Shiavo, did I not tell you to look at me?" the Preator growled, making Spock's head snap up to stare at him before he'd fully submerged his feelings.

Spock fought the urge to drop his eyes again as the Romulan's eyes dilated slightly. He felt the man's anger wash over him as he mentally prepared himself for the pain that he knew was coming.

With a growl, the Romulan grabbed Spock's wrists and brought both of his hands up and rested them against his uniform coat. "Touch me, damn you," he demanded, staring into the Vulcan's eyes and daring him to defy.

Anger sparked past his shields as Spock's hands fisted in the Romulan's coat. All he wanted to do was to go back to his room and be left in peace, but he was being forced to play this man's games instead. The sooner the Preator got what he wanted, the sooner he could leave and find what little solace he could from his solitude.

Using that to strengthen his resolve, the Vulcan pushed the man that he'd found himself despising more than anyone in his entire life down, crawling over his prostrate form so that he could kiss his chin softly, before he ripped the edges of the man's uniform coat open. If his Vadi wanted it rough today, Spock would oblige him.

When the Romulan's hands came up and fisted in his longer than normal hair, Spock ran his hands up the man's chest. He tugged at the hem of the undershirt that was tucked securely into the black trousers. When it was free, the Vulcan pushed it up the Romulan's torso, shaking off the hands that were pulling painfully on his hair.

He felt a small wave of nausea roll through him, but he quickly pushed it down as he snapped the man's trouser's open. He slid the zipper down and wiggled his body down the long legs under him. As the hands kept tugging at his hair, Spock forced his mind to go blank, burying the feelings of disgust deep inside.

Keeping his touch gentle, the Vulcan freed his master from the confines of his clothes and trailed kisses down his body, wishing in the depths of his soul that this were a different body entirely. He looked up at the man's hooded eyes, knowing that his Vadi wanted him to look at him.

It was humiliating.

Taking a deep breath, Spock started to lower his lips to grace the man's arousal with a soft kiss when the Romulan's grip in his hair tightened painfully. Wincing, the Vulcan stopped, looking up at the Preator.

"No," the Romulan panted, his tattoos standing out in stark contrast to his slightly flushed skin.

Spock released the man, allowing himself to be pulled to his knees as his master sat up and quickly removed the remnants of the torn uniform. "Go to my room and wait," he ordered, toeing off his boots as he stripped off the rest of his clothes.

Dismayed, the Vulcan stood up and walked into the large bedroom attached to the office. He sank to his knees next to the foot of the bed facing the doorway, watching for the Preator. After about ten minutes, the Romulan walked into the room with a small cup in his hands.

"Drink this," he said, holding the cup out to Spock.

Blinking, the Vulcan licked his lips nervously, but took the cup anyways. He took a sniff of the liquid and recoiled immediately. "Vadi," he started, looking up at the man.

"Drink it, Shiavo, or would you prefer to receive a penance?" the man replied, his voice cold and hard.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, the Vulcan downed the contents of the cup immediately, not wanting to feel the man's displeasure again. Last time, it had caused him to be whipped until it broke the skin. As much as he distrusted the liquid in the cup, it couldn't possibly be worse or more humiliating than being chained naked in the centre courtyard while the whole household watched him receive lashes. Spock was tired of pain.

As the slightly thick liquid slid down to his stomach, warmth spread through him. He felt his muscles relax and he had trouble focusing his sight. When his heart picked up on speed, he shifted uncomfortably. Blinking, he realized that his body was starting to flush and become aroused against his will.

'A drug,' he thought fuzzily, looking up at the man who was watching him with a hungry expression on his face. He swallowed, tasting the remnants of the sweet liquid on his tongue as a wave of nausea threatened to push the drug out of his body.

Before the nausea could become anything more, the Vulcan felt his body harden painfully. His skin grew sensitive enough that the thin pants that he was wearing felt like sandpaper. Spock whimpered softly as he lost control over his tongue.

"Vadi," he breathed, slowly raising his suddenly heavy eyelids to stare in fascination up at the man who had kept him as a slave for months (weeks?). As soon as he met the other man's eyes, he was fascinated by the unusual golden colour of them. They were surrounded by the stark tattoos that designated the man's high rank in the Romulan Empire. Thick lashes swept over them as he blinked, the dark crescents accentuating the exotic shape.

As he studied the man's face, his body started to burn. He could feel his control slipping away as a tide of lust washed through him. Softly, his lips parted and he reached for the Romulan, forgetting that he wasn't allowed to touch his master without the express permission. When his hand stroked over the clearly defined muscles of the man's abdomen and he wasn't struck down, Spock's fingers trailed up as high as he could while still on his knees.

"Please, Vadi, make the burning stop," he whimpered, the logical part of his mind sinking under the effects of the drug. The man kneeling in front of the Romulan was no longer Spock, the Vulcan First Officer of the Federation Starship Enterprise. What was left was a wanton, someone that ran on nothing more than an instinct.

Right now, that instinct was telling him that the Preator was the only person who could end his torment. Spock rose to his feet and gently pressed his lips to the Romulan's pressing their bodies together and wrapping his arms around the man's strong neck. His fingertips slipped into the military short hair, revelling in the texture as he withered against the Preator's body to try to relieve the ache of his arousal.

A low growl ripped itself out of the Romulan's throat seconds before he backed Spock onto the bed. As the pair sank to the mattress, Spock wrapped his arms and legs around the Preator's body. His back arched upwards to hold the contact between them as his Romulan master gently eased himself inside his slave's body.

Moaning, the Vulcan writhed as the man took him slowly. He panted, arching his back as the skilled hands that could snap his neck in seconds stroked over his willing body easily. Fire danced over his nerves and he closed his eyes and whimpered as he felt the man's hands stroke over the sensitive skin of his hipbones.

"Look at me," the man commanded, his voice rough and deep.

Instantly, Spock's eyes snapped open and he whimpered as he stared at the lust written over the Preator's face. The normally cold eyes were burning, staring back into his own with a fierce determination. He could feel the man's mind, focused on the desire that was racing through them both. Panting, he reached out and grabbed the Romulan's hands where they held his hips. He lifted his hips to give his master better access as he felt his blood alight on fire.

With a loud, heartfelt moan, Spock climaxed as he stared into the Preator's eyes. Seconds later, the Romulan followed him over the precipice. He was still staring into the man's eyes as black started to tint the edges of his vision. The orgasm that he'd just had was draining him of the ability to remain conscious and combined with the effects of the drug quickly pulled him into abyss. He whimpered one last time at the fierce look of satisfaction written over the strong, yet beautiful face of his captor, before the darkness claimed him.

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Spock stared at the familiar vista of the desert planet in front of him. The mountains in the distance rose sharply, helping him focus on something else than the turbulent emotions racing through him. He felt his human eyes brim with moisture, but he blinked rapidly to keep the tears that were threatening to fall from slipping out.

His arms came up and wrapped around his torso as he felt a chill, that had nothing to do with the landscape, slide up his spine. Taking a shuddering breath, Spock let his head drop in defeat, his eyes closing as a single tear slipped out of his eyes and slid down his cheek.

The events of the previous night played behind his eyes again and again, torturing him. His shoulders shook as he remembered the way he'd lost all of his decency. He'd watched as his own body had betrayed him, while he was helpless to stop it. Choking slightly on the sobs that he wouldn't let out, he looked back up at the warmth of the landscape surrounding him.

There in the distance, he saw a figure running towards him. He blinked rapidly to clear the tears away from his vision and the man started to get clearer and clearer. He recognized the confident, sure stride seconds before he threw himself down the slope, tearing through the landscape. He felt the hot air sear his lungs, but he pushed himself forward, desperate to get to Kirk. If he could just get to him, he could tell him where he was...

"Jim!" he yelled, forcing his legs to move faster. He leaped over a large rock in his path, seeing the large smile split the captain's lips.

"Spock!" the man called; his voice still almost too faint to be heard. The human picked up on speed, his legs burying slightly as he dipped into a sand dune and leaped over the top. "Where are you?"

"I'm on," he started before he tripped over a rock and was violently thrown to the sand. He pushed himself up and looked towards the human, his eyes widening with horror as he saw the nude figure that stood between the two of them.

Looking around, the Romulan finally focused on Spock before they turned towards the human that was quickly gaining ground on them. His eyes flashed back to the Vulcan, rage boiling in their depths. Quickly, he strode across the short distance between the two of them.

Wrapping his hand around the Vulcan's arm, he hauled Spock up bodily until they were eye to eye. "I'll never let you go. You're mine," he hissed, giving the slim man a shake before he lowered his lips to claim Spock's resisting ones.

Spock pulled away and looked back at the human who was running flat out, rage adding speed to his steps seconds before he was ripped away. "Jim!" he yelled, trying to reach around the much larger Romulan to reach Kirk.

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Welcome to the end of Chapter 10. :) Hopefully, it wasn't too graphic for everyone. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks to my new Beta, Cami, for her absolutely awesome work. I really appreciate it. As a small side note before I get flamed: No, I do NOT approve of the use of drugs to tame your Sub.

Thanks!

Lee


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Look, I don't own Star Trek, though I wish I did own Patrick Stewart. The only thing I own is my own little version of it. :) If you have any preconceived notions about Spock and Kirk, you'd better not read this. This story will also contain other adult material, such as a scosh of slap and tickle. (BDSM).

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definately. Possibly others.

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Spock's eyes followed the movements of his master's feet as they paced back and forth across his room. He could feel the man's emotional turmoil even though the Romulan wasn't touching him - it was so thick. He took a deep breath and beat back the anger and hurt that he still felt raging through him. If he lost his temper now, it wouldn't go over very well for him later.

The Preator's boot heels clicked loudly as he paced back and forth, his long heavily muscled legs pulling the material of his trousers tight over his thighs. Against his will, Spock felt his throat go slightly dry. Ever since the Romulan had shown him what it could be like between the two of them, the Preator hadn't taken him again.

Memories of the pleasure that had coursed through his flesh still made involuntary shivers race up and down his body. Being taken by the dominating Preator had been an eye-opening experience to say the least. The Vulcan in him had fought against the loss of control, but his human half had found relief in submitting. Giving up the control that had been ingrained in him since he was a child to the man had freed him in a way that he'd never dreamed possible.

When he'd woken up in the Preator's arms, warm and smelling of the man's spicy scent, he'd quickly slid out of the bed and stared down for a moment at the sleeping man. He'd never seen him sleeping, having been sent back to his rooms immediately after the Preator was done with him. The officer looked more relaxed and at peace than Spock had ever seen him. Licking his lips as shame had coursed through him, the Vulcan had run from the room.

Still slightly under the influence of the drug, the Vulcan hadn't even noticed the chilly air on his nude skin. His thoughts had been a tangled mess, and as he reflected on it now, it had been fortunate that he hadn't come across any of the Romulan guards that routinely patrolled the halls. He doubted that he'd have remembered to kneel before them as he was now expected to because of his place in this alien world.

Once he'd reached his room, the Vulcan had immediately showered, trying to wash away the lingering sensitivity on his skin. He managed to concentrate solely on the task of washing himself, ignoring the guilt and shame that had been trying to force their way past his mental barriers. His mind was flashing back repeatedly to Kirk's face and the thoughts of how the man would have felt if he'd have seen the wanton way Spock had acted.

He'd been on the brink of tears when a strong, warm hand had yanked him from the shower by his arm. The Preator had stared at him with a blank face and a closed mind before he'd pulled Spock out of the haven that his room had become and marched him down the halls back to his room.

It had been humiliating to be led through the halls nude with soap dripping down his wet skin, but he'd endured it with typical Vulcan stoicism that he didn't feel in the least. The Preator had finished the shower that Spock had started in the slave quarters in his own bathing area, joining him in the process. Spock had closed his eyes and endured; forcing his emotions down deep inside even as his body had betrayed him when the Preator had gently stroked and caressed his skin.

He'd been trying to reconcile the experience in his mind, going over and over the unfamiliar feelings and sensations that had accompanied it. Every day, though, he failed to come to a logical conclusion as to how he was going to deal with the emotional reactions that he was facing. He felt betrayed; the trust that he'd had for the Preator had been shattered when the man forced him to take the aphrodisiac. On the heels of his betrayal, he felt the anger and violation of what had been done to him. Though he knew that he should hate everything about his situation and his captor, his body still craved the man's touch.

He watched the Preator's boots stop in front of him, but kept his eyes downcast, his chin dropped to his chest subserviently. The long, tapered fingers of his hands rested loosely on the thin fabric of the trousers covering his knees. Every muscle in his body was relaxed - the model of a Vulcan control. Even when the strong, warm hands belonging to his Master stroked over the silky, now shoulder length hair on his head, he didn't flinch.

"Shiavo," the Romulan said, the word sounding more like an endearment than the validation of his slavery that it really was. "Look at me."

Obediently, Spock raised his eyes to meet the man. He didn't let his ebony gaze move from the exotic eyes of his Master. He kept his lips shut, waiting to be asked a question. When he saw the irritation flash across the man's face, he blinked slowly, not knowing what the Romulan wanted from him. The Preator had been unpredictable lately, resulting in more than a few punishments for his Vulcan pet.

With a sigh, the Preator cupped Spock's chin in one of his warm, calloused hands. He stroked his thumb over Spock's soft lips, causing the nerves to tingle against the Vulcan's best efforts.

Pursing his lips, the Preator sank his fingers into Spock's hair. "Who was that man, Shiavo?" he asked quietly, his eyes burning intently into Spock's captive gaze.

Licking his lips, Spock's tongue accidentally brushed over the tip of the Preator's questing digit. "What man, Vadi?" he asked, keeping his mind tightly shut against the brush of the Romulan's telepathic ability. His own shields, developed over years of painstaking practice against some of the best telepaths on Vulcan, withstood the onslaught without any trouble.

Narrowing his beautiful eyes, the Preator's finger's tightened slightly against Spock's skin before they loosened. The hand that had been buried in his hair stroked forward over the skin of his neck so that he could cup the Vulcan's face in both of his hands. "Don't play with me, Shiavo. You know very well about whom I speak," the Romulan whispered, his golden eyes burning.

Swallowing as his head was pulled back farther until the muscles of his neck were stretched taut enough to make it slightly painful, Spock took a deep breath. "His name is Jim. We were bonded before I was taken," he replied honestly.

Taking a deep breath, Spock fought against the waves of possessiveness he felt radiating from the Romulan. The Preator's jealous streak was not to be trifled with. He kept his eyes fixed on the man, knowing that if he didn't distract him somehow, he would end up bearing the brunt of the man's anger.

Slowly, Spock let his eyelids drift halfway shut, until he was staring up through his eyelashes. "Please, Vadi, don't make me think of my past life. I belong to you now, no one else," he whispered, feeling his heart crack a little at the words. 'Jim, I'm sorry...' he thought, as he pushed the startled look on the human's perfect face out of his mind.

He hadn't known that the Romulan had become so close to him mentally, otherwise he wouldn't have reached out towards the human last night. That Kirk had been asleep and thinking of him at the same time had been a miracle. Spock had been shocked to his soul that the Preator had been able to invade his mind the way that he had. It had been just one more violation in a long line of them.

A small, slightly strained smile stretched slowly over the Romulan's lips before he leaned down and gently kissed Spock's forehead. "A valiant effort, my Shiavo, but we will discuss this when I get back," he whispered into the kiss, the gentle caress hiding the simmering rage inside of the man. "Unfortunately, I must go back to my home world for a few days. I shall leave you in the care of my housekeeper, Savel. Do not leave your rooms. She'll bring you your meals and anything else you desire here. Remember to whom you belong, Spock."

With a last lingering caress, the Romulan walked over to the door, glancing back once before the heavy wood shut.

Closing his eyes tightly, Spock's hand rose involuntarily to his chest to rest on the brand that had been burned into the skin just above his heart. 'As if I could forget,' he thought bitterly, hating the way his traitorous body mourned the loss of the Romulan's warmth.

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Kirk leaned on the bar, his now empty glass thumping down on the dirty metal. He looked over at the occupants of the bar and nodded to one man who had been watching him for the past half an hour. He gave the humanoid man a cheeky grin before he wiggled his drink at the bartender.

The smell of stale beer, a hint of vomit, and the scent of unwashed bodies mingled together to create a very familiar scent that brought back not so pleasant memories. He licked his lips and looked down, seeing the man that had been watching make his way slowly through the crowd.

Silently, he thanked Bones for the inhibitor that was keeping him from feeling the effects of the drinks that he'd consumed. The last time he'd been in a bar and had gotten this hammered, he'd finally come to his senses in a dorm room at Starfleet academy. He'd hate to think of where he'd end up if he got this drunk while he was still reeling from the glimpse he'd had of his Vulcan First Officer.

He raised his eyebrows when the man sat next to him and scooted his stool closer. "Can I help you?" he asked, making sure his words slurred just slightly.

"You look a little lonely over here," the man replied, a leer replacing the smile that had been there. "I think I can cure that sour look."

Kirk turned and looked the man up and down, unable to keep from comparing his slightly squat, square build to the slim elegance of Spock. He blinked at him for a few seconds before he slapped him on the back. "I'm sorry, bud, but I'm here to meet someone," he said with a grin before turning back to his drink.

On cue, Uhura came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He caught the fresh, delicate scent of her perfume seconds before her lips pressed a soft kiss to the skin just below his earlobe. The captain turned and smiled at her, tugging her around so that he could tug her onto his lap.

The alien man held up his hands and moved off the stool, giving him a smile before he sat back down at his table.

"Did you get it?" the woman on his lap whispered, resting her forehead against his and reaching around to play with the hair on the back of his neck.

Distracted momentarily by the proximity of the warm body on his lap, Kirk blinked stupidly at her for a few seconds before he grinned. "Oh yeah," he replied, letting his face form the lustful mask that had fooled so many men and women. "I've got it where it counts, darlin."

Uhura graced him with a beautiful smile before she hopped off of his lap and tugged on his hand. "Come on," she said, giving him a wink. "Let's get out of here."

Making sure that he stumbled slightly on his way out, Kirk stared at Uhura's backside, remembering how it had fascinated him during his academy days. Apparently, he'd followed her all the way from Frisco to the Academy. She certainly did have a very impressive backside, and he'd always been an ass-man.

As they left the bar, they moved into an alley and she pushed him against a wall, flipping open her communicator and signalling the ship that they were ready for transport.

When they appeared on the pad, Uhura immediately stepped back and brushed the fabric of her tunic down over her leggings. "Hopefully that wasn't a waste of time," she grumbled, walking off of the pad and over towards the door.

Kirk blinked and looked over at the doctor who was waving a medical tricorder towards him with a pinched look on his face. "Man, she can sure go from hot to cold like that," he grumbled, trying to snap his fingers and failing.

Bones shook his head and grabbed a hold of Kirk's arm. "If you hadn't been such a lush, you'd be dead by now," he replied, ignoring Kirk's comments about the Com officer.

Rolling his eyes, Kirk allowed himself to be led down the halls. "I thought you gave me that thingy that kept me from getting drunk," he replied, grinning at a passing crewman who had short black hair. "Hi."

The man blinked as the Captain was drug away and forced into the lift. "I did. It just wasn't built to counteract EVERYTHING that you were drinking. How many drinks did you have, Jim?" he asked, scowling at the Captain.

Kirk's face scrunched into an almost comedic expression of concentration before he grinned at the doctor. "I don't know! I lost track after my tenth Aldebran Whiskey," he replied, waving his hands around.

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor shook his head. "Did you get the tracker onto that hooker?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and radiation disapproval.

Opening his mouth in mock indignation, Kirk held a hand up to his chest and stared at the Doctor. "Have I ever failed a mission?" he asked, waving the hand that wasn't clutching his uniform towards the ship.

McCoy's eyebrow rose as he stared at Kirk. "Besides the first two Maru's? Let me count the ways," he started, bringing his hands up to list them off.

When the doors opened, Kirk wobbled out and headed for his quarters. "You're absolutely no fun, Bones," he replied, leaning against his door and closing his eyes for a second as he reached blindly for the panel that would open the door. He could feel the liquor pushing past even his ability to resist certain urges and he sighed as his body grew more and more aroused.

He didn't usually go home alone from the bars.

Cracking an eyelid, he looked over to see the Doctor watching him with concern. "What, Bones? I'm not going to die from a little drinking," he replied, finally smacking the button that would open the door.

"You sure you want to be alone?" he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Blinking, Kirk looked the Doctor up and down. "Why Bones, I didn't think that you swung that way," he replied, grinning when the Southern man blushed scarlet.

Bones scowled and sighed. "That's not what I meant, and you damn well know it, Jim," he replied, stepping forward and pushing the drunken man into his quarters. When the door was shut behind the two of them, he led Kirk over to a couch and pushed him down on it, taking a seat in the love seat that was across the coffee table from the captain.

Kirk blinked at his friend, knowing exactly what the man wanted, but not wanting to talk about it. "Don't ask me, Bones," he said, feeling his heart ache softly as an image of Spock's beautiful ebony eyes flashed through his mind.

"Jim, I have to. You can't just keep going like this," he replied, waving a hand towards the man's destroyed quarters.

Scowling, the Captain rolled his eyes and slouched back onto the pile of uniforms that he'd been shoved onto. "Good lord, Bones, you're not going to lecture me on cleaning my room, are you?" he asked, stretching his legs out in front of him.

Tapping his foot, McCoy shook his head. "No, Jim, I won't. I want you to talk to me. I need to know that you're alright," the Doctor replied, the rhythm of his foot picking up. He knew that he was breaking 'Man Law', but the safety and well being of the crew depended on one recovering from the early stages of alcoholism to keep them safe.

Kirk took a deep breath, any joy he might have gotten out of his liquor induced buzz was gone instantly. "Bones, I'm not going to snap. I know Spock's alive, that's all that matters. We're doing our best to find what Romulan bought him. There's nothing more that I can do," he replied, waving his hand. "So go on, let me sleep this off and I'll see you in a few hours."

Reluctantly, the Doctor stood up. "Jim, you need to talk to me," he said quietly as he headed for the door.

Closing his eyes against the pain in his heart, Kirk nodded. "I know, Bones, and I will," he replied without opening his eyes. "I just need some time."

Sighing, the Doctor opened the door and stepped out into the hall. He looked back once, seeing the slightly lost expression on the man's face and letting his door shut. He sighed, his heart going out to his friend. It was never easy to lose someone close to you, and he knew better than anyone else how few people the Captain really did let close to himself.

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Thank you to my absolutely fabulous Beta, Kami for getting this back to me so soon. :) Sorry about the long wait for this chapter, I was recovering from a canoe trip. When you get so sunburned that you feel the burn even in your sleep, you know you had a wonderful time. (And were too stupid to put on sunblock.) Fortunately, I don't really burn for long, and two days later, voila! a gorgeous tan. The bruising took a lot longer to fade. Stupid rednecks.

Anywhooo... Review! Let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Strong sexual content in this chapter. There's also mention of drinking, and bondage. Please don't read on a weak stomach. Hold on to your assets, kids, this is a long one!

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

Chapter 12

Keeping his eyes lowered, Spock quickly walked down the hall. He'd stayed in his room for the past seven days, but the walls had started to close in on him. Even though his Master had told him to stay in his room, he was desperate for a change of scenery. All he'd had to think about had been Kirk, the Preator, and the life that he'd never have again.

He set his feet carefully against the chilly marble, ignoring the shivers that were running up and down his spine. It was full night on the little planet that they were on. Spock assumed that they were on a slightly smaller one than Romulus, because the days and nights were both shorter than even the ones on Earth. There were only about 20 standard hours in a day, even though he was almost certain that they were farther out from the yellow sun that they were orbiting.

Licking his lips and pushing back the fear that was making his body hum with awareness, the Vulcan slipped up the staircase to the second floor. He pressed himself against the wall as he passed the guards' quarters, moving through the night without even the whisper of a cloth to betray his presence.

Once he was past the guards rooms, he ducked into the large, empty room that he'd found on one of his nightly forays around the small manor house that the Preator had claimed on the planet. He breathed a soft sigh of relief as he shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a second to give his heart a chance to stop pounding.

When he turned towards the room, he felt his features smooth and relax as he walked across the room that was so cold he could see his breath. It had once been a large ball room, with windows that reached from floor to the ceiling and let in just enough light for Spock's sharp Vulcan eyes to navigate the floor to the small door that was nearly hidden in the heavy curtains held back against the walls. He grabbed the long, warm fabric and wrapped it around himself like a blanket before he stepped out of the small door and into the frigid night air.

He shuddered as the wind blew past him, but held his ground; looking up at the stars and feeling something in him that he didn't know had been tense until now relax. Briefly, he let his eyelids flutter shut. Drawing in a deep breath and forcing his mind to go blank, he slowly let his eyes open to the glory of the stars.

There was a small nebula directly above him, the pink and gold shimmering brightly in the chilly air. He examined the nebula with a scientist's eye, his fingers itching to get a hold of a sensor and categorize all of the different gases and particles that were making up the brilliant light show in front of him.

His breath puffed out in a cloud of steam as he glanced at all of the other stars, wondering if there were any natives to this world and if there were, did they have any special names for the plethora of constellations? He noted the different types of stars, his eyes narrowing on one particularly bright spot of light in the sky and debating with himself over whether it was a planet or a satellite.

Suddenly a large, hot hand dropped onto his shoulder, causing a jolt of fear to stab through Spock. Instinctively, he dropped to the concrete, kicking out and scoring a hit to the knee of his attacker.

He rolled away quickly, the frigid floor raising goose bumps all over his body as he sprung to his feet and formed a defensive stance. The Romulan hidden in the shadows chuckled before he stepped out onto the balcony, a slight limp to his walk. "Good reaction time, Shiavo," the guard said, moving cautiously towards the Vulcan.

Nausea rolled through his stomach as he realized that he was now alone with one of the men that had been staring at him particularly long and hard every time he'd been forced to walk through the halls to the Preator's rooms in nothing more than the low, thin pants the Romulan favored for him. He backed slowly away, keeping out of the officer's reach. He circled, moving towards the door, knowing that if he made it inside, he could probably out run the guard and make it to the other guard's quarters. There would be a punishment in it for him, he knew, but it would be better than what would undoubtedly happen to him if he stayed out here with the Romulan.

"With reflexes like that, I'm not surprised that you survived with all of those Klingons for so long," the man said, stepping solidly into Spock's path.

Hiding the nervousness that he felt, Spock forced his voice to stay normal. "Indeed," he replied non-comically, shivering now that he'd left the relative warmth of the drape that he'd been standing in. He circled back towards the rail, his eyes focused in on the Romulan's walk. The kick had scored solidly, he knew, and he hoped that it would slow the man down just enough for him to run.

Smirking, the Romulan stepped forward, towards Spock. He licked his lips as he let his eyes roam over the Vulcan's nearly nude body. "It's a shame, really," he said, letting a gusty sigh to create a cloud around his head.

"A shame?" Spock replied, feeling the cold concrete railing against his lower back and moving along it.

"That I can't take my time to enjoy you," the man said, stepping closer and making another grab for the Vulcan's slim, agile form.

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The Preator shifted in his seat as the shuttle started it's decent, staring out the window's forward view. He brought both of his gloved hands together and folded them over his flat, trim stomach. He ignored the soft beeps and clicks of the controls as the pilots manoeuvred his personal shuttle through the turbulences. His mind was already on the ground, next to his Shiavo.

Deep, exotic eyes flashed in his mind's eye as he thought of the Vulcan. His brows drew together in thought as he pondered his slave. Originally, he'd bought Spock with every intention of keeping him as nothing more than a companion that he could travel with. He'd requested a Vulcan specifically so that he could use him as a lie detector on his subordinates. Despite the fact that his Shiavo turned out to only be half-Vulcan, Spock had proven to have a remarkable telepathic talent.

When he'd seen Spock brought to his knees by the guard, he'd seen Spock's spirit and felt intrig He'd covered his interest, though, with anger at the slaver, knowing that if he showed too much favour towards the tall, slender man the price would go too high for him to justify. He'd reached out and firmly tipped the Vulcan's face up so that he could see his eyes and study for himself if they'd already broken the man's will or not.

Broken pets didn't function well.

Time froze for a second, though, as the nearly black eyes had met his. There was pain, of course, but deep inside those eyes burned strength of will and spirit that made his heart beat faster. When the slaver had slapped the defenceless slave, he'd felt a killing rage burn through his veins. He'd already come to think of the Vulcan as his own. It had made his hands rougher than he'd intended when he'd grabbed Spock to steady him. It had been the irritation that he'd seen ripple across the Vulcan's face for a second after he'd caught him that had assured the ebony haired man a place in his house.

He licked his lips as he remembered the first time he'd tasted Spock, the Vulcan's lips almost trembling under his as the Preator had gently stolen a kiss. It had been a battle of wills to get the tall man into his bed and underneath him, but eventually, he'd gotten him there.

But it was a hollow victory, though. Despite his best efforts, the passion he could sense lurking behind the Vulcan's careful control had remained elusive to him. He'd been careful, slow, had given him enough time to accustom himself to the soft touches and gentle caresses, but it had been like trying to command troops that weren't speaking the same language.

He could admit to himself now, though, that maybe using the Singma hadn't been the best idea. Once the Vulcan's cold exterior had been stripped away, the Preator had been amazed at the passion and hunger that had lurked beneath the surface. Spock had been responsive to his every touch, begging him for more, and that itself had been an intoxicant.

And after all of that passion, he'd awoken to a cold bed.

Angry beyond words, he'd stride through the halls in nothing more than thin sleep pants to his Shiavo's room. When he'd seen the Vulcan in the shower, scrubbing at his skin, he'd felt a sharp pain lodging itself in his chest.

That pain hadn't left since then. Spock had been cold and unresponsive, perfect in his control to the point that the Preator couldn't even get a faint hint of his emotions. The Vulcan's mental shields were too strong. His frustration had built over his absence. The memory of the passion that they could share was haunting him constantly.

Tonight was the end of their cold war. He'd bring the man to heel and get some answers about who that human was.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when the shuttle set down on the landing pad, sending a shudder though the small craft. Blinking, he pushed himself up and nodded to the pilots. "Thank you," he said, moving to the hatch and slapping the button that would open the heavy metal.

A frigid gust of air rushed into the tiny space, making him clench his jaw together to keep his teeth from chattering. He strode down the gang plank and into the relative warmth of the manor house that he'd taken over. The people of this world must have had a whole hell of a lot higher tolerance for the cold than he did.

Ignoring the guards that he passed, the Preator made his way to the Vulcan's rooms, mentally preparing himself for the battle that he knew would come. When he reached the door, he paused, taking a deep breath before pushing it open.

Reaching for the panel next to the door, he flipped on the light and blinked as he saw the empty room.

A burning rage started in the pit of his stomach as he turned on his boot heel and strode through the halls. He stopped and motioned a passing guard towards him. When the man saw the look on his commanding officer's face, the normally pale skin on the guards face turned a sickly green colour.

"Yes, Preator?" he asked, his voice only slightly shaky.

Taking a deep breath, the Preator forced himself to think past the rage. "Where is my Shiavo?" he asked softly, the quiet tone of his voice belaying the strong emotions ripping through him.

Visibly swallowing, the guard glanced around as if he could conjure the Vulcan by the sheer force of his will. "I'm not sure, my Preator," he replied, standing ramrod straight.

Clenching his jaw shut, the Romulan master stared at the guard for a few seconds. "I want him found," he said quietly, keeping his body relaxed. "Now."

As the guard scurried off, the Romulan strode to his own rooms, checking them carefully for any signs of the Vulcan, but finding none. When he finished with his rooms, he fought back a rising sense of frustration. Taking a calming breath, he tried to think like his Vulcan Shiavo would.

Walking quickly through the smallish manor house, he headed for the stairs, knowing that the ground around his personal dwelling was far too patrolled even for his resourceful slave to escape. He headed towards the top level of the house, where his guards were being housed.

As he walked past the guards' rooms, the likelihood of finding his slave grew slimmer and slimmer. It would have taken much for the Vulcan to have made it past all of his trained Romulan soldiers, all of whom had just as acute a sense of hearing as he did. When he reached the ballroom, however, he frowned as he saw the drapery pulled into what looked like a doorway.

Tilting his head, the Romulan blinked towards the window where he thought he saw movement on the balcony. The sound of booted feet behind him had him turning to look at the three uniformed officers that snapped salutes to him.

"My apologies, Preator. We've searched the entire lower floor and the second floor as well. The guards on the ground are doubling their patrols, but we have yet to catch sight of the Vulcan," the head of his security said, his face stoic.

Scowling, the commander scowled at his men. "Where were your men when my Shiavo just walked away, Sub-Commander?" he asked, his voice very cold.

Visibly swallowing, the Romulan took a deep breath and was just about to answer when there was the sound of a muffled scream of pain.

Spinning on his heel, the Preator immediately looked to the drapery that had been caught in the door that led out to the balcony. He strode across the floor, the three guards surrounding their leader. He grabbed the handle and wrenched the heavy door open just in time to see his Shiavo disappear under the rather large form of one of the guards that were supposed to be guarding him.

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Spock brought his knees up to his chest, wedging them in between his attacker's body and his own. He'd broken the man's nose, and now the angry Romulan was leaking green blood all over his face as he tried to strangle the life out of the Vulcan under him. Seeing dark spots dance at the edges of his vision, Spock kicked out with all of the strength he could manage, knowing that there was no way in hell he would be able to keep this guard off of him for much longer.

The Romulan was just too quick and experienced.

He coughed and rolled to the side as the man's weight suddenly disappeared off of him. Spock's eyes opened and then widened when he saw his Vadi bodily throwing the guard through the large window that led into the ballroom. He struggled to stand up, reaching for his throat as breath rasped in and out of his damaged windpipe.

Spock stared in fascination as the Preator grabbed the guard and hauled him to his feet, his hands balling into the man's uniform.

"How dare you touch what's mine?" he heard his Vadi ask softly in a tone Spock had never heard come from the Romulan's mouth.

He watched as the guard's face turned ghostly pale under all of the blood that was leaking out of his nose. "I-I-I-I," he stammered, only to be silenced as the enraged Commander wrapped one hand around his throat and lifted the offending soldier ten centimetres off of the ground.

"If you have harmed my slave, I will take the damage out on your hide," the Preator hissed as the man's face turned a rather unhealthy colour.

With a grunt, the guard hit the ballroom floor and the Preator turned to the head of his security. "Take him to the brig. I'll personally deal with him tomorrow morning," he instructed the commander, his eyes cold and flat as he stared at the man who was gasping and hacking on the floor.

"Sir," the man replied, saluting his Commander before he signalled to two of the guards that were standing in the doorway gawking at the display of raw power that they'd just seen to come and pick their former comrade up and take him away.

When the Preator turned his angry eyes towards Spock, the Vulcan immediately dropped to his knees and bowed his head, ignoring the cold. He licked the painful split on his lower lip, knowing that the whole left side of his face would be one massive green and blue bruise come morning due to a lucky hit the guard had delivered. The swelling had already started.

Spock kept his body motionless and relaxed as he saw the familiar boots approach him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the physical pain the Preator would cause him.

Warm, strong fingers encased in the gloves that the Preator wore while he was in uniform stroked along the uninjured side of his face before they curled underneath his chin, lifting his face until Spock was forced to stare into the Preator's eyes. He watched with a blank face and mind as the man examined the damage that had been done to his slave.

While the man held his face in one hand, the Romulan turned to the guards and began giving them a through dress down for their lack of discipline while he was gone. The fact that one Vulcan slave could sneak out directly under their noses and even past their sleeping quarters had been unacceptable.

Spock listened with mild fascination as the man turned the problem into a lesson for his troops. With a few very carefully placed words, the Preator not only built back up the morale that had been lowered by one lone guard but ensured that the remaining men would watch Spock like a specimen under a microscope. Even if it did limit his movements even more, taking away the small bit of freedom that he'd found, he could admire the Romulan's ability to command troops.

As the soldiers saluted and turned to leave, Spock felt the Preator's attention turn back to him and he had to repress a shudder. "Come with me, Shiavo," the Commander said quietly, turning on his heel and walking swiftly towards the warmth of the main house.

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Kirk blinked open his eyes, feeling like there was a sandpaper in his mouth where his tongue used to be. He closed them again and groaned rolling onto his side and fighting off a wave of nausea. He never should have had that last Cardasian Sunrise. Those things always put him under, no matter how good they tasted.

Taking a deep breath, Kirk reached out for the light panel next to his bed so that he didn't trip over his own boots on the way to the bathroom. He searched across the silky fabric covering his bed and groped for the panel, scowling as his fingers encountered only air. Groaning, the Captain of the Enterprise pushed himself up onto his elbows and opened his eyes to the pitch black room. He squinted into the dark and forced his very sore body to sit on the edge of the bed.

After a few seconds when he was sure that he wasn't going to hurl, Jim gingerly got to his feet and reached for the wall. He carefully felt his way along the floor until he hit the doorway to his bedroom, closing his eyes tightly before he hit the light switch to delay the inevitable blinding for a few seconds.

Slowly, he squinted his eyes open and braced himself against the wall. He rubbed his hand over his naked chest, blinking his eyes a few times to clear his slightly blurry vision. Seeing the Spartan room, he tilted his head, wincing when he felt his brain slosh over to the other side. He looked out of the bedroom to the living room where a very familiar wall hanging was gracing the clean space.

He had been sleeping in Spock's bed.

Groaning, the Captain pushed off the wall and stumbled into the bathroom to relieve himself before he splashed water onto his face to clear some of the cobwebs. He inhaled deeply, catching the lingering hints of Spock's aftershave and cologne. Closing his eyes, he looked around, trying to find his clothing, praying that he hadn't been roaming the halls nude.

His search became more desperate when he couldn't find anything that resembled clothing laying around the naked floor. Flopping down on the bed, he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to make his brain remember how he'd gotten here without anything on.

Shaking his head, the Captain of the Enterprise sat up and looked around the room. He glanced at the chronometer on the wall and pushed himself to his feet.

He had to be on the bridge in fifteen minutes.

Pushing himself off of the bed, he opened Spock's closet and grabbed one of his robes, tugging it on and closing it without really looking at it. He padded to the door and reached for the panel that controlled the doors, glancing back once again towards the bedroom.

The bed looked even worse than it had before, the covers half on and half off of the mattress. The bathroom had water spots on the mirror, visible from where he was standing. It looked more lived in, and the Captain wondered for a few seconds, what Spock would say if he knew who had been sleeping in his bed the night before.

Licking his lips, and pushing back the emotion that welled up, the human pushed the button and stepped out of the Vulcan's quarters. He locked the door behind himself and strode down the corridor, feeling oddly naked in the flowing black robe. It had almost delicate silver writing up the left-hand side, the script was some type of Vulcan language that he couldn't even begin to translate.

He was nearly in his quarters when he heard booted feet hurrying towards him. Turning, he almost smiled at the comical look of shock and horror written across Bones' face. The southern man froze in his tracks before he shook his head and started forward.

"Where the hell have you been and why in god's name are you wearing a Vulcan ceremonial robe?" he demanded, reaching the Captain and grabbing his upper arm. He started towards Jim's quarters, towing the amused human behind him.

Raising an eyebrow, the Captain waited until they were inside of his rooms before he tugged his arm out of the doctor's grip. "What do you mean? I'm not supposed to be on the bridge for another twelve minutes," he replied, walking back towards his room and half tripping over a pair of dissuaded boots that he'd left on the floor.

It felt oddly nostalgic. Now that his mess surrounded him, he felt more at home.

"We've been combing the ship for you since late last night," Bones replied, following Jim into his room and leaning against the doorway while the Captain dug through a pile of clean uniforms that he hadn't put up yet.

Turning slightly wary blue eyes towards the Doctor, Jim's mouth pinched into a thin line. "I didn't do anything too embarrassing, did I?" he asked, straightening with his clothes in his hands.

Tilting his head, the Doctor shook his head. "Not that I know of right now. Do you have something that you want to tell me about?" he asked, motioning his head towards the black robe that was stretched around the Captain's muscular build.

"Nothing you already haven't heard about." the sandy-haired man replied, stripping off the robe and tossing it over to his bed.

He stepped into the small shower cubical and turned it on, closing his eyes as the warm water blasted over his skin. He would like to have few minutes to linger, but he didn't have the time. With a small sense of regret, he grabbed the soap and started to wash himself free of the smell of Spock mixed with the entirely too human scent of his sweat.

"Jim, you've had the Vulcan Ambassador waiting for your call since last night. He keeps calling, wanting to talk to you," Bones called into the bathroom, his voice sounding irritated beyond belief.

Grinning to himself at the tone, the Captain leaned back and got his shorn locks wet before he smeared shampoo over them. "What does he want?" he called back, lathering his hair while he rinsed his body off.

"To talk to you!" the doctor called back. "You know, you should really think about cleaning up your quarters. I'm surprised you can find anything in here!"

Rinsing quickly, the Captain groped around for a towel as he shut off the water. "Oh come on, Bones! I haven't even been eaten by a single pile of clothes yet!" he replied, drying off before he tugged on his uniform and padded out to find a pair of socks. He swiped at his hair with the towel and bent over, wincing as his brain protested against the swift movement.

"That's not funny, Jim. Do you have any idea how many different types of bacteria can breed in your dirty socks while they mould away under your bed?" Bones replied, wagging a finger at the unrepentant man.

Rolling his eyes, the sandy haired man pulled on a pair of mostly clean socks and grabbed a pair of boots. "It's not like I've had a lot of time lately for house cleaning. I've been a little too busy to worry about the bacteria in my socks," he replied, waving his hand towards the mess laying around his floor. "Besides, Bones, would you really be worried about the state of your laundry if the people under your command were taken and sold into slavery? I've been doing everything I can to find Sulu and Spock," he started, before turning away from the doctor and throwing the towel towards the bathroom. "Can you just let my room go for a while? I'm due on the bridge."

Sighing, the Doctor nodded. "Sure, Jim. Sure," Leonard McCoy replied, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just trying to make sure that you're still doing okay."

Pausing on his way towards the door, the Captain looked back at possibly the best friend that he'd ever had and stared into his solemn eyes. "Do I have any other choice? He needs me, Bones," he replied, clamping down on the emotions that were trying to make him tear up.

When the doctor didn't respond right away, Jim turned and quickly strode out of his room and headed for the lift that would take him to the bridge.

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Kirk leaned back in his chair, staring at the gently lined face in front of him. Familiar black eyes stared back at him as the man raised his hand in the traditional Vulcan salute. "Greetings, Jim," the man said, his voice slightly rough.

Nodding to the Vuclan, the Captain returned the salute and then folded his hands on the cold wood of the conference room's table. "What can I do for you today, Spock?" he replied, attempting to keep his voice level and normal.

The man's left eyebrow rose slowly before the Vulcan spoke. "I believe the question is not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you. I received your message and the description of the rank tattooes that you saw on the Romulan's face and body. If my sources are correct, I believe that your link with my younger self was severed by a very powerful Romulan man. Specifically, the Preator of the Romulan military," he replied, a hint of sadness coloring his tone.

Kirk froze as all of the air was sucked out of his lungs. His hands flattened on the slick surface as he struggled to remain upright.

"You're sure about this?" Kirk replied when he was sure that he could speak, feeling an overwhelming tide of relief and hope blossom in his chest. His dream hadn't just been a mirage, then and he now knew where to start looking for Spock.

The black eyebrow that had been lowered rose again. "I assure, you that I wouldn't have taken the time to tell you this if I didn't have conformation from a very reliable source," the man replied, his hands folding. "It is my belief that he is being held as a Shiavo."

"Shiavo?" Kirk asked, rolling the unfamiliar word off of his tongue.

Spock looked slightly uncomfortable for a few seconds before he nodded. "Yes. Loosely translated, it means 'Companion'. Many of the wealthier Romulans keep travelling companions to entertain them while they travel," he replied.

Relief swamped over the human. Spock was more than a little cold towards new people, but Kirk knew that his XO wouldn't hesitate to bore someone to death with a lecture on any number of subjects. That man could recite thousands of scientific texts from his memory. "So he'll be well taken care of?" he asked, feeling his eyes slide shut with relief.

"That depends," the Vulcan replied, regret obvious in his rich voice.

The relief that had been relaxing the man's tense muscles disappeared as the tone of the elder Vulcan's voice registered with Kirk's brain. "On what?" he asked, opening his eyes and staring at the man.

"On how willing he is," the Vulcan replied bluntly, laying his hands on the table to mirror the Captains posture.

Ice slid through the Captain's blood as cold dread followed quickly by a hot jealousy. "Willing?" he asked quietly though clenched teeth.

The Vulcan's eyebrows drew together as he stared at the Captain. "Jim, he's been sold into slavery. He now belongs to a Romulan who is being groomed as the next head of state for the Empire. Charging in with guns drawn to save my younger self is not going to be an option," the man replied, leaning back in his chair.

Kirk felt the hope that had been blossoming inside of him wither and die. "So what do we do?" he asked, not even concidering the option of leaving the Vulcan there. The thought of having Spock back in his life and in his arms had been keeping him going for weeks now, and he wasn't going to give that up.

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Spock knelt o bediently next to the bed, shivering slightly in the chilly room. He felt a bead of water slide down his back, itching between his shoulder blades. The wet ebony locks of his hair dripped in a steady rhythm onto his thighs as he waited for the Romulan commander to finish his own shower. Despite the temperature of the room, the itch of the water dripping down his body, and the throb of his fresh injuries, the Vulcan didn't move. This was where the Preator had told him to stay, and after seeing the anger simmering in the man's eyes, he'd obeyed.

After he'd followed the man to his room, the Preator had washed all of the other Romulan's blood off of his body. It had been slightly disconcerting to Spock to feel the Romulan's gloved hands running over his body. The slightly calloused hands that he'd come to know had been replaced by the empty feel of the leather gloves. Even though he'd seen the anger simmering in the golden eyes, he hadn't been able to sense the Romulan' s emotions without skin to skin contact.

Only after he'd been brought back out and the man had headed back into the bathroom to take his own shower had Spock heard the catches on the gloves be released.

With a soft sigh, he looked over at the window, seeing the shine of stars through the glass. He let the emotions that had been threatening since he'd seen the guard step out of the door have free reign for a second. A shudder that had nothing to do with the cold shook his slender body as he remembered the sadistic glint in the man's eyes.

If the Preator hadn't come along when he had, Spock was fairly certain that he'd be dead. Now, he knew without a shadow of doubt that the guard that had touched him would die a horrible, painful death.

For a brief second, Spock let his mind wander to the warmth in the back of his mind that let him know that somewhere, Kirk was still alive. He could feel the human's life force, but becau se Kirk wasn't a telepath, it had been amazing that he'd touched the man's mind enough to see him one last time before his Vadi had severed the link. The human eyes that had always shown too much stared out at the stars, wondering if the human that had become his bonded was safe.

He heard the water cut off in the bathroom and cut off his train of thought. Spock stared at the window, wishing that he could feel the familiar buzz of energy through his body that meant he was being beamed out. It was a futile hope, his logical mind insisted. Even his emotional side was tired of hoping day after day for something that was growing more and more unlikely.

'Perhaps,' he thought, staring out at the cold, distant stars, 'it's time that I accept my situation.'

Quickly, the Vulcan returned his eyes to his knees when the door opened and admitted the fully nude, slightly damp Preator. He took a steadying breath, forcing his heart rate to stay at a steady, normal beat even as the Romulan's bare feet padded closer to him. When they stopped in front of him, Spock licked his lips nervously but kept his eyes lowered.

"Get onto the bed and lay face up," the Romulan's rich deep voice ordered, breaking the silence and startling Spock slightly.

Gracefully, Spock pushed himself to his feet and turned to the bed, moving to the centre of it and laying face up. He carefully kept his eyes averted from the Romulan.

Once the Vulcan was settled onto the soft bedding, the Romulan reached up and pulled a set manacles from behind the head board. Spock's body tensed and his eyes flicked up as the Preator grabbed his arms and started to bring them up. Spock resisted, trying to pull his hands away from the restraints.

"No," he said, trying to break the Preator's strong grip.

The Romulan growled softly before he pinned the Vulcan under his body. "Put your hands up, Shiavo. I have no patience for games today," he said quietly, steel in his voice even as Spock was assaulted with the force of the man's rage.

As the Romulan forced his arms into the cuffs, he halfheartedly pulled on the thick metal bindings. He had to fight down the urge to struggle in earnest, knowing that it wouldn't get him anything more than more bruises, especially with the anger that was rolling off of the Romulan in waves. Once his hands were secure, the Preator released Spock's body and slid off of the bed, pacing back and fourth along the foot.

"Answer me truthfully, Shiavo. Why did you disobey me and go outside of your room?" the Preator asked, turning to stare at Spock.

Licking the painful split in his lip, Spock took a breath before he answered. "I'd been inside my room for a week straight, Vadi," he replied softly, waiting for the anger that he knew would come.

"So, instead of following my simple instructions, designed to keep you s afe, you decided to sneak around the compound in the middle of the night? Why?" he asked again, pacing back and forth, his steps measured, but heavier than usual. "Did you plan on meeting that guard there?"

Tugging on the bonds that were holding his hands, Spock stared at the Romulan. "No, Vadi. I just wanted a few moments outside," he replied, his voice very quiet but calm.

The Romulan's golden eyes were hard and cold as they turned to look at his Vulcan slave. "And now, because of your foolishness, I have to kill one of my guards," he growled, cutting the air with his hand.

Spock lowered his eyes until he stared at his feet. He felt the guilt push at him, but he knew that even if he begged for the man's life, it would do the Romulan no good. His fate had been sealed he moment that he'd refused to let Spock just return to his rooms.

A warm hand grabbed his chin and tugged it up until he was forced to meet the Preator's angry eyes. "H ave you caused enough trouble, Shiavo?" the man asked, the gentleness in his touch conflicting with the harsh emotions that Spock was sensing.

Licking the split in his lip, Spock nodded and tugged on his hands. "Yes, Vadi," he replied softly, feeling his stomach knot. He tilted his chin up, the flicker of movement happening before he could stop it.

The Romulan's eyes flared an angry gold color before he pulled his hand back and sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached out and ran his hands over Spock's torso, tracing the lines of his sleek muscles lazily. "You know he's never coming for you, don't you?" he asked softly, his thick lashes hiding his eyes as he stared at his tan hands on Spock's pale skin.

With a sinking feeling, Spock blinked up at the Romulan. "To whom do you refer?" he asked, twitching when the Romulan passed over a particularly sensitive spot near his navel.

"Your human mate," he replied, looking up into Spock's ebony eyes as his fingertips skimmed over the delicate skin at his hips. When the Vulcan tried to shift his hips away, the Romulan's teasing fingers followed. He traced lazy circles around the prominent bones before they continued lower, gently stroking over the soft dusting of hair on Spock's legs.

Closing his eyes, the Vulcan concentrated on his breathing to keep in control of his body and emotions. "I'm not mated," he admitted softly, knowing that technically, he was telling the truth. He'd never been officially mated.

"And yet you have formed a mental bond with a human male," the Romulan replied, trailing his hands back up Spock's body in a caress that raised goosebumps on the Vulcan's skin. "That's highly unusual."

Spock's eyes squeezed tightly shut as he turned his head away from the sound of the Romulan's voice. His hands fisted and he tugged against the bonds holding him to the bed. The last subject in the world that he wanted to discuss with his enraged Master was the complicated relationship with the Captain.

"Tell me, Shiavo, how did you come to have a human bonded?" the Romlan asked, dragging his fingernails softly over the flesh covering the ribs closest to him.

Twitching away from the Romulan, Spock started to pull himself towards the head of the bed. "Don't," he whispered, trying to bring his legs up to block the man's access to his body.

His eyes flew open when the Preator's hand dealt a stinging blow to his rear. He felt a slight tingling warmth spread from his bottom as he straightened and stared at the man.

"Never tell me what to do," the Romulan replied calmly, gently rolling the stunned Vulcan onto his stomach so that he could trace the planes of Spock's back with his gentle hands. "Now, back to our earlier subject. How did you come to be bonded with a human?" His fingers gently rubbed the muscles of Spock's back, pressing against the pressure points that caused the Vulcan's muscles to relax despite the shock running through him.

Spock closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. "It was a mission that went awry. I was almost killed and he saved my life," he replied curtly, unable to resist tugging on his arms again.

When the chains jingled, the Preator's hand swatted the other side of his bottom and Spock froze. "Interesting. I've never seen anything like that happen," the Romulan replied, rubbing his hand over the now tingling skin almost in apology for a few seconds before he returned to Spock's back.

The Vulcan sat in silence, his eyes staring at the wall next to the bathroom door. He kept his breathing regular even as his body began to relax into the touch against his will. The Preator's strong hands knew just how much pressure to apply in order to release the tension. Just as his eyelids were fluttering shut, he felt the warmth of the man's hands leave his body seconds before he hea rd a whistle of air.

Spock's body bowed as the Romulan's hand connected with the tender skin of his rear. He tried to roll to his side, but was stopped when the Preator put one knee on his shoulders. He tugged on his arms as more blows were rainded down on his formerly relaxed skin.

Rolling his hips, Spock tried to flip over onto his back, but only earned himself harder blows. "Vadi!" he breathed, trying to escape from the hand that was punishing him. "Stop!"

As he bucked against the Romulan's body, he felt the man's other hand pin down his lower back. The skin of his rear felt like it was on fire as hit after hit was landed. Through the pain and humiliation that he was feeling, he could feel the lust and desire that was slowly overshadowing the anger that had been emanating from the Romulan.

Shock replaced his humiliation as he realized that over the time he'd spent with the Romulan, he'd become almost as sensetive to the Preator's emoti ons as his own. Even as he froze with dawning horror, he could feel his body growing aroused. He stopped struggling, the Romulan's blows no longer feeling painful as he felt his heart speed up.

"You are never again to disobey me, Shiavo," the Romulan hissed in his ear, landing one final smack that stretched across the entire span of Spock's narrow hips. "Say it."

"I will never again disobey you, Vadi," the Vulcan repeated, his voice slightly rough as the Romulan's emotions pushed at the careful shields of his mind.

The Romulan shifted, moving his knee off of Spock's back. Almost gently, the Preator placed a soft kiss on the pressure mark from where he'd been forced to hold his slave down. The ebony haired man shivered as soft kisses were trailed down his back. As his master reached the tender skin of his rear, Spock couldn't hold in the whimper that escaped his lips as he felt the man's strong hands gently stroke the tingling flesh. His body grew h arder as the man tormented his flesh.

"You are mine, Spock. I will never let you go," the Preator whispered softly against his skin, before gently nipping at Spock's waist. "Forget your past life and accept who you are now."

Tears filled the Vulcan's eyes as he felt the Romulan's hands run up the skin of his sides before they slid down again and grasped his hips. Jim's face swam in his mind, the Captain's face stretched into a smug smile as he sat on his chair and stared out at the view screen.

A single drop of moisture leaked out of his eyes to drop on the silky material of the Preator's bedding just as the Romulan slid into his body, claiming him. Even as his heart broke, his traitorous body reveled in the strong, sure movements of the soldier behind him. He whimpered as the Preator used the knowledge of his body that had been gained over many hours of careful exploration against him.

Softly, Spock cried even as he tugged on the cuffs t hat were holding him prisoner. He threw his head back as he felt gentle teeth clamp down on the tender skin of his neck. A moan broke free of his control as his hands grasped a hold of the chains attached to the cuffs. He tossed his head from side to side, trying to fight the surrender that he knew was inevitable.

Strong hands gripped his hips as the Preator's rhythm slowed. The Romulan leaned back, angling his body slightly. Spock's eyes rolled into his head as he pushed back against the man buried in his body. Waves of pleasure shut down his mind, leaving him with nothing more than the physical sensations that were stealing his breath.

He moan loudly as his master's hand circled around their bodies to cup and then stroke him. Spock's chin dropped to his chest as he let himself go, using the Preator's own passion and desire to block out the agony and despair that had been trying to suck him under. As he let his mental shields drop, he felt the Preator's in tense satisfaction. Opening his eyes, he turned his tear-streaked face towards his master.

The Preator's golden eyes were molten as the met his own black. His face was set in lines of concentration as he timed the movements of his hand and his body to draw the act out as long as he could. The Romulan leaned forward, capturing Spock's lips in a heated kiss just as the Vulcan's climax hit.

A loud scream of pleasure was ripped out of the Vulcan's throat as he tugged on the cuffs that were holding his hands captive. He let himself go, concentrating his mind solely on the sensations that were pulsing through his body. Spock shuddered again as he felt his Vadi release into his body, the Romulan's arms locking him against the warmth of his skin.

After a few seconds, the spots dancing in front of Spock's eyes diminished and he tugged on the cuffs. He whimpered as the Romulan slid free of his body and reached around him to the cuffs. He looked over, seeing the beautiful gold eyes belonging to his master. The Preator glanced over at him and gave him a crooked half smile as he released his slave.

Spock felt the split on his lip drip as he drew his hands towards his chest, rubbing the raw, chafed skin. He felt his mind start to race as the endorphines from his climax started to fade and his mind was able to re-establish itself.

"You're bleeding again," the Romulan chided, moving off of the bed and padding into the bathroom. He returned a second later, a wet towel dangling from his hands. He tossed it to the stunned Vulcan.

"Thank you," Spock replied automatically, looking down at the damp cloth in his hands. He gently washed his face, keeping his features impassive as he cleaned the painful cut that had reopned with the Preator's vigorous kiss. When he was done with the towel, the Romulan held out his hand just as Spock was getting out of the bed.

"Stay," he commanded, walking the cloth over t o the bathroom and tossing it onto the counter before he returned to the bed. He lay back on the mattress next to Spock, lacing his fingers behind his head.

Spock drew his knees up to his chest as he stared at the wall across the room. He turned when he felt the Romulan's eyes on him and caught the golden orbs seconds before he looked down. His mind was chaos, not knowing what he was supposed to do. Swallowing, he ducked his head to the Preator. "Shall I return to my rooms?" he asked, his voice still slightly rough from the passion they'd just shared.

"No, Shiavo. You will sleep here tonight," the Romulan replied, reaching up and gently tugging on Spock until the Vulcan was curled next to him.

Licking his lips, Spock shifted slightly, holding his hands at his sides. He hadn't slept in the same bed as another person since he was ten baring the last time he'd slept with the Preator. Unsure of what to do, he let the Romulan roll him halfway onto the b road, tattooed chest. His left hand came up to brace himself against the taut muscles of the Preator's abdomen, and when his hand was covered by the same hand that had spanked him so thoroughly not an hour ago, Spock left it there.

Slowly, the chill that had been permeating the air around him seemed to retreat as the Romulan's body heat surrounded him. He relaxed, letting his eyes drift shut as the content satisfaction seeping from the man under him crept into his own mind. His body shifted slightly of it's own accord, drawing closer to the warmth as the Preator tugged a warm cover over the two of them.

Just as he was drifting off, Spock felt the Romulan sigh. "What am I going to do with you, Shiavo?" the man whispered in Romulan as long fingers began to slowly stroke his hair.

Spock closed his eyes tightly as he felt a wave of despair wash over him. He shook his head and slipped his arm around the Romulan's waist. The Vulcan closed his mind to eve rything but the emotions running from the Preator.

His broken heart could wait until morning. Right now he was too tired and sore. 'I'm sorry, Jim,' he thought bleakly as he drew one of his legs up and slipped it over the Preator's thighs. 'I just can't fight anymore.'

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Thank you to my Beta, Kami, for getting this chapter back to me as quickly as she did. :) You're awesome and it was REALLY long. My muse is an evil man with an evil plan, and I like it. :D Don't worry, Kirk will see Spock again, but the question is, Will Spock be able to escape the Preator's evil clutches?

Find out next time on "As the Vulcan Turns".

Lee


	13. Chapter 13

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Strong sexual content, some character abuse, not much angst, knowledge of what Kirk did while he was REALLY tipsy. I do not approve of drunken streaking... Please streak responsibly.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock are the main pair, though I do have Spock in captivity right now, so he's paired with an OC. Poor Spock.

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Kirk forced himself not to show the disgust he felt at the way those alien people were kept. He followed the green skinned Orion man who had led him here, reaching up to scratch at the itch from the fabric of the civilian clothing that he'd donned to fit in with the mining population of the planet.

"You're sure this guy's got humans?" he asked, raising his eyes doubtfully as a blue skinned Bolian walked past them wearing nothing more than a fishnet body stalking to cover her charms.

The Orion looked mildly hurt, holding a hand up to his chest. "Would I lie to you?" he asked, waving it in the air.

"Yes," Kirk answered shortly, rolling his eyes and forcing a grin to take the edge off his words.

He'd been planet side for two days, mingling with the mining colony's low class workforce, acting on a tip that he'd received from the last place he'd tracked Sulu to. The owner of the gladiator arena had sold Sulu to a brothel here after the little Asian man had nearly emasculated one of his best patrons.

He hoped that he would be in time to get to his helmsman before he was sold again. He'd asked around, and found that out of the five hundred whore houses on this planet this brothel was the only one with an Asian human male. While there were a lot of Asian human men, Kirk doubted very much if there was another one this deep in space.

With a laugh, the green skinned man pushed open the door to the dingy two story building that housed the whore house. "Smart man," he replied, motioning Kirk into the building and leading him down the hallway.

Kirk looked around and inwardly winced. The walls were covered with the same dirt as the rest of the colony along with a layer of grime unique to this house. He glanced into one room and blinked at the acrobatics that two of the working girls were performing with three of the minors.

Even as experienced as he was, he'd never done that.

"Cerene!" the Orion called as he walked into one of the back parlours.

A rotund woman who was well past her prime turned around and glared at the two of them, raising a large cigar up to her full lips and puffing greedily on it. "What do you want, Jaben?" she demanded, bringing one hand up to rest on one of her ample hips.

"Cerene, my lovely, I've brought you a customer. He's new here and he's been a little homesick. Perhaps you have something that will give him a taste of his home world?" he replied, holding open his arms to the large woman.

She turned and looked Kirk up and down for a second before she shrugged. "This one ain't cheap. He's new to the trade, so you might have to force him a little bit, but he's a sweet looking little thing," Cerene said, holding out her hand. "Payment before you even see him. Two hundred credits an hour."

Kirk let his eyes grow wide at the inflated cost. He had twice that on him, and was willing to spend a million credits if it was going to bring Sulu home, but he knew that if he simply agreed, the woman might become suspicious. "I've only got seventy," he replied, pulling the seventy credits out of his pocket and fingering them.

"I'll give you a half an hour for seventy, but only because you're so cute. If you ever want to make some real money, come and see me," she said, giving him a salacious once over and a wink.

Keeping his smile in place only through a feat of a will power, he handed over the money and winked back at the older woman. "If he's as sweet as you say he is, I don't know if I ever gonna want to leave," he replied glibly.

Laughing, she handed him a key. "Third door on your left upstairs. Watch out, he bites," she teased, turning and slipping the credits into her ample cleavage.

Idly, Kirk wondered how much money that woman had stuffed into her bodice, but pushed the thought out of his mind with a shudder. That was one question he never wanted answered. He took the stairs two at a time, not needing to force the eagerness in his steps. The Captain was anxious to see if the human that was here was his lost officer or just some other poor soul who had taken a wrong turn.

As he passed the doors, he ignored the sounds that were coming from them, everything from moans of pleasure to screams of an agony. He counted the doors in his mind until he came to the third door on the left. It was padlocked from the outside, and Kirk felt his blood begin to boil in anger. No one deserved to be kept like this.

Fleetingly, his thoughts turned to Spock, and he sent out a prayer to whatever god would listen that his First Officer wasn't being forced to endure a similar situation, before he turned his attention back to the door in front of him and the mission at hand.

He took a deep breath and unlocked the sturdy closure with a soft click. Carefully, he pushed open the door and eased himself into the room that reeked of sweat, urine, and the musty scent of sex.

Looking around the Spartan room, Kirk finally spotted a limp form laying with his back to the door, the nude body curled into the fetal position on the bare mattress that sat on the floor.

Slowly, Kirk walked forward, feeling his heart break as he watched the little Asian man's muscles tighten as he tried to curl farther into himself. Easing down on the mattress, Kirk reached for the man's slim shoulder. Before he could speak though, the man's muscles tightened and in a blur of a motion, the Asian man rolled over. Sulu kicked him in the face, making Kirk see stars. He fell backwards off of the makeshift bed and tried to shake his head only to be pinned down with Sulu on his chest, the man's hands freezing on his throat.

"Sulu! It's me!" he choked out, struggling to buck the tough little man off of his chest. His hands came up and encircled the man's wrists, staring up into the helmsman's bruised and battered face. "It's Kirk!"

The only response he got was when the Asian man slammed his head onto the floor before he released his throat. "It took you long enough!" the Asian man hissed into his ear before he leaned to the side and was violently ill.

Staring at the man, Kirk lay on the floor, stunned. He blinked as he tried to clear his mind of the fog that was surrounding his brain now that it had been slammed into the hard wood. "Took me long enough?" he asked incredulously, pushing himself up slowly and warily eyeing the Asian man.

Sulu glanced at the door, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. His pupils were the size of tea cups, nearly spanning his entire eyes. He began to shiver violently as he rolled himself away from the mess he'd just made on the floor. "If you're going to do something, do it quickly," he replied, closing his eyes as the shivers got bad enough that his teeth started to chatter. "Because I'm about to pass out again."

Raising an eyebrow, Kirk flipped open his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise, two to beam up," he said, reaching out and pulling the shaking man to his feet.

When the familiar walls of the transporter room materialized around them, he looked over at Sulu just as the man's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slipped into unconsciousness. With a grunt, he hefted the Asian into his arms and headed for the door.

"Signal Doctor McCoy. Let him know that I've got Sulu and he's in a bad shape," he grunted to the startled Ensign behind the counter as he walked as quickly as he could pass the automatic door and towards the sick bay. "Hang in there, Sulu. You're home."

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When he heard the door open, Spock looked up from the Romulan science journal that he'd been devouring. He set the PADD aside on the bed and slid gracefully to his knees when he saw the Romulan commander step into the room. He lowered his head and clasped his hands in front of himself.

"Good morning, Shiavo," the Preator said in Romulan, walking swiftly over to his slave and gently running his hands through the ebony locks that had now reached the Vulcan's shoulders.

"Good morning, Vadi," Spock replied in the same language, tilting his head so that he could look upwards into the Romulan's eyes and lean farther into the touch.

A small smile tugged at the edges of the Commander's full lips before he leaned down and gently kissed the Vulcan. "I have a surprise for you," he said, straightening and holding out his gloved hand towards Spock.

Tilting his head in curiosity, the Vulcan took the hand and rose to his feet. He allowed himself to be led out of the room and through the halls of the manor house that he'd been kept in for over two months now. When they passed the Romulan guards, he very carefully averted his eyes, remembering the screams of the guard who had fought with him two weeks ago.

The Preator himself had slowly killed the man in full view of the entire household as a warning of what would happen should anyone else lay a hand on his Vulcan slave. Since then, none of the guards would even look at him. The only contact he had with anyone was his Romulan Vadi, and even that was fleeting because of the man's busy schedule.

He pushed back the feelings of loneliness and concentrated on keeping a steady pace with his master, wondering what the Romulan could have in mind. The last gift he'd received from the man had been a data PADD containing a year worth of Romulan scientific journals. Despite the fact that they were three years old, there was still a number of articles that had fascinated the scientist in Spock.

The Preator's only condition was that they would be in nothing but Romulan, giving Spock the opportunity to polish off his skill in the difficult language that resembled his own in so many ways. When his Master had found out that Spock was somewhat fluent in his native tongue, he'd spoken in nothing but that to his companion ever since.

The data PADD, delivered the day after he'd witnessed the death of the guard, had been the first step towards a truce of sorts between the two of them. Spock, accepting the possibility that he would be spending the rest of his rather long life in the service of the Romulan, had surrendered his body for the man's pleasure, no longer remaining so cold and distant.

After the first time that Spock had actively sought to initiate anything physical, the pleasantly surprised Preator had given him a few sets of clothing. The tunics and loose trousers were warm, chasing away the chill of the winter air of the planet much better than the thin pants that had been Spock's only clothing.

Over the weeks since his punishment, the two of them had been steadily building a relationship.

It was only in the deepest hours of the night, when he was alone in his own room, that Spock allowed himself to mourn the loss of the proud Vulcan that he had been. It would have been a slap in the face to him six months ago, to have everything from his ability to wear clothing to his freedom of movement to rely on the whims of one man; but he'd adapted to his situation. Every time when his mind turned to Kirk, he'd forced the man's image out of his mind, reminding himself that dwelling on the past was painful as well as illogical.

As the Preator led him through the doors into the room where Spock spent most of his days now, he looked around curiously.

"I've been recalled," the Preator said, letting go of Spock's hand and walking over to his desk. He leaned against it and smiled warmly at his slave.

Spock stayed just inside the door, blinking at the Romulan and clasping his hands in front of him. "If I may, Vadi, will I be staying here?" the Vulcan asked, hoping that he wasn't overstepping his bounds.

The Romulan beckoned Spock closer, his face growing slightly serious. "You'll be returning to Romulus with me. I've decided that you shall become my constant companion," he replied, reaching out and running his leather clad fingers over the Vulcan's cheek.

Closing his eyes, Spock reached up and rested his hand over his Master's. With the frequency in which the Preator travelled, he would finally have something to occupy his time, weather it was nothing more than finding new ways to engage the Commander or not. Anything would be better than sitting in his room for weeks at a time, waiting to be called out to entertain the man. "Vadi, how will I be able to move with you? I am a former Starfleet officer, after all," he said quietly, releasing the man's hand as it pulled away from his face.

The Romulan took a deep breath and looked down at a black box sitting next to him on the desk. "These are for you. As long as you wear these, no one will dare to harm you, former Starfleet or not," he answered.

He picked the box up and held it out to Spock, his gold eyes staring at Vulcan's stoic face. Lowering his eyes to the box, Spock gently pulled the lid off and reached inside. Cold metal met his fingers as he pulled out a cuff that was five centimetres wide, silver, and engraved with the same symbol that was branded onto Spock's chest.

"There are eight of them for your limbs and a ninth one with a special emblem that will scan you into my private rooms," the Romulan said, setting the box back on his desk and reaching inside.

He pulled out a slightly thinner band that had an opaque emerald jewel hanging from it. Spock set the band that he'd been examining down and leaned closer to the green jewel, trying to analyze the stone. Despite its transparency, the stone seemed to burn with an inner fire, both reflecting the light and creating a soft glow of its own.

"It's a very rare stone, only found on my home world. There's a small transmitter in it that only I have the frequency to, in case you are hurt or taken," the Romulan explained, leaning forward and slipping the metal collar around Spock's neck.

The Vulcan felt a soft click as the band sealed itself shut around his neck. Spock felt panic trickle down his spine for a second, before he felt the leather gloves of his master slide gently over his skin until they cupped his face. He tilted his head up and closed his eyes, reaching up and resting his hand on the side of the man's neck. All the pride, desire, and fierce satisfaction that the Romulan was feeling blocked out the dark emotions that were threatening to push past the careful barriers in the Vulcan's mind.

"You don't approve?" the Romulan asked softly, resting his forehead against Spock's.

Shaking his head, the Vulcan licked his lips and sighed. "It's not that at all, Vadi. I am merely unaccustomed to such outward displays of ownership," he replied, moving his other hand forward and resting it on the stiff cloth of the Romulan military uniform.

The Preator's fingers slid down Spock's body until they rested on his hips. He drew the Vulcan forward until Spock was pressed tightly against his body. "These bonds will keep you safe, Shiavo. If you don't wear them, you'll be executed as a spy or worse," he whispered, feathering soft kisses over the former officer's eyelids.

"I understand," Spock replied, leaning against the larger man. He wrapped his arms around the Romulan's neck and tilted his head so that he could lay it on the Preator's shoulder. Closing his eyes, he tightened his control slightly until he knew that he'd be nothing more than emotionally blank to the less skilled telepath in order to hide the emotions that were rolling through him.

When he was gently pushed away, Spock looked up and stared into the Preator's beautiful golden eyes. He let his hands slide down the strong chest in front of him until they dropped to his sides. He saw the frown line starting to appear between the man's eyebrows as the Romulan's eyes darkened to an amber colour.

Carefully, Spock raised his hand and stroked his fingertips over the shell of the Preator's ear to get a bead of his emotions. When he felt the disapproval, he pulled his hand back and let it return to his side. He lowered his eyes and let the new growth of hair slide forward slightly. "I apologize, Vadi, if I have not shown you the proper appreciation for your gift," he replied softly, locking away the hint of resentment that threatened to make itself known. "I am very grateful to you for the concern you have shown for my safety and well being."

Just as the Preator was about to answer, the control panel on his computer beeped softly to announce the incoming transmission. He moved to sit down and glanced up at Spock giving him a shuttered look. "We should be leaving in an hour and a half. I'll retrieve you from your quarters in about an hour," he said, dismissing his slave and turning to his computer.

Bowing at the man's dismissal, Spock reached out and grabbed the box containing the rest of his bands. He turned and walked towards the door just as he heard a woman's voice float out of the control panel, asking the Romulan when he'd be able to look at the troops orders that she'd sent him.

Shutting the door softly behind him, Spock lowered his eyes immediately as he spotted the guard heading down the hall towards his master's rooms. When he saw that the Romulan was headed for the solid door, the Vulcan clutched the box slightly closer to his side and moved past him towards the long hallways that housed his own room.

Once there, he shut the door and leaned against it. He closed his eyes and swallowed, reaching up to brush a hand over the unfamiliar metal around his neck. Shaking his head, Spock pushed off the door and set the box down on the bed before he tugged his shirt over his head. He tossed it onto the bedding and pulled out four of the bands, deciding to bite the bullet and get it done with.

They were very aesthetically pleasing, he had to admit. They were made of ultra light silver metal, engraved with the symbol of what he'd come to know was the Preator's house emblem, surrounded by scrolling tribals. With a soft, resigned sigh, Spock slipped the bands onto his arms. Once they were securely in place, the metal made a soft humming sound before it adjusted to perfectly fit the Vulcan's slender limbs and the bands sealed themselves shut.

Raising an eyebrow, Spock slipped out of his soft pants and slid the larger set onto his legs. When they sealed themselves shut just like the ones on his arms, he tried to tug them off. While the metal flexed with his muscles, it refused to budge from his skin.

Shaking his head and forcing back the hint of panic that rolled through him, Spock tugged on his pants, grabbed his shirt, and began to gather the few pieces of clothing and personal items that he'd accumulated during his brief stay here. After a few moments, when the metal warmed to the same temperature as his skin, the Vulcan completely forgot that he was wearing the bands at all.

Only when he grabbed the data PADD that he'd set down, as his Vadi had entered the room he catched a glimpse of the silver encircling his wrist. He sat down on the bed, his face carefully blank as he stared down at the physical reminder of his current status as a slave. A wave of despair tried to wash over him, but he fought it back, reminding himself that it was illogical and unproductive to allow himself to wallow in self pity for circumstances that he could never change.

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Bones raced down the hall, pulling his tricorder out as he rounded the corner and saw the Captain carrying the limp form of their newly recovered officer. "What happened?" he asked, tapping out a sequence of keys as he adjusted the readouts.

"He fainted," the Captain replied, ever so helpfully.

Scowling, the doctor concentrated on the vital signs that the instrument was feeding him. "You think? And here I thought he was faking it to get a day off," he replied sarcastically, motioning Kirk over to one of the exam tables.

Snorting, the Captain laid the man down, and Bones pulled a warm blanket over the man's nude form. "Where the hell was he?" he asked, never looking up from his patient as he waved a tricorder over Sulu's still form.

"I found him in a whore house planet side," he heard Kirk say, causing Bones's head to snap up and stare at the Captain.

His mouth opened and closed a few times before he shook of his outrage and looked over at his newest nurse. "Nurse Chapel, I need you to prepare a full set of fluids," he replied as he slapped a hypospray with vitamins and minerals into the man's neck. "I'm not sure what those people injected into his system, but it's playing a hell with his circulatory system."

Nurse Chapel gently pushed Kirk out of the way, pulling Sulu's left arm away from his body and skilfully sliding an IV into one of his veins. McCoy nodded his approval as he took more scans, trying to isolate the chemicals that the Asian man had running through his bloodstream.

When he started to grumble to himself, Nurse Chapel handed him a hypo loaded with an anti-toxin before he could ask for it. He blinked up at her and nodded his approval, slapping it into the unconscious man's neck. "It looks like that he is malnourished, dehydrated, and hopped up on some kind of stimulant," he groused out loud, punching a few keys to scan Sulu's kidneys. When he was sure that they were functioning, he moved on to the man's other organs, checking their levels as well.

He looked up, catching a fleeting glimpse of the emotions chasing around the Captain's face before he turned away and hopped up onto the bed next to Sulu's.

Shaking his head, the doctor looked down at his patient and sighed. Damn that pointy eared bastard and his stubborn streak. If Spock hadn't gone down to that damn frozen rock of a planet alone, then this whole mess wouldn't have happened in the first place.

'I hope we find that Vulcan so I can give him a piece of my mind,' he thought, glancing back over at Kirk who was watching Sulu with a look of almost pain on his face.

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Kirk blinked as the chime to his quarters buzzed again. Scowling, he glanced at the chronometer and winced when he saw that it was 0436. He groaned and rolled over, intent on going back to sleep when it rang again. Pursing his full lips, the Captain of the Enterprise hefted himself out of his bed and stumbled towards the door, intent on ripping whoever was behind the portal to his room a new one.

He slapped the control panel, wincing as the bright light from the corridor assaulted his eyes. Bringing his hand up, he blocked the light, trying to wake his brain up.

"Captain," the young woman who had been ringing him saluted when he opened the door. "I have a priority transmission waiting for you on the bridge."

The sandy haired man scowled and puckered his brow as he forced his eyes to blink away the sleep. "What?" he asked dumbly, licking his dry lips and pushing his hair away from his face.

"Sir, there's a priority message from the Vulcan Colony for you," she said, staring at a spot just over his right shoulder.

Shaking the last vestiges of his exhaustion off, Kirk forced his brain to wake up. "Why did they send you instead of just calling over the comm?" he asked as he turned back into his room and flipped on the light. He grabbed the first uniform that came to his hands and tugged the familiar black pants over his boxer shorts.

"Because you turned off your comm, sir," she replied.

He tugged his golden shirt over his head before he turned and blinked at her. "So who did you loose to?" he asked with a grin as he tugged on some socks.

The young brunette pursed her lips and straightened her spine slightly. "Flores, sir," she replied.

Shaking his head, the Captain knelt on the floor and searched for his boots, dredging up the memory of a young, eager blonde woman who had shared his bed three months before the fight with Nero. "What's your name, Ensign?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled as he reached under the couch to feel for his foot wear. He pulled a right boot out from the depths of his couch and leaned back over to search for the other one.

"Jenkins, sir," she replied smartly, letting the door shut. She stood in front of it board stiff, never quite looking at him. Kirk would swear that she was afraid that he was going to leap up, strip naked, smear himself in a lime green jello and dance around the room.

Grinning at the imagery, Kirk poked his head over the coffee table and waved his boot in the air. "I need the other one of these. Help me find it," he instructed before he pulled his head back under the table. As he crawled across the floor, he looked up and saw her staring around the room with more than a hint of apprehension.

Under other circumstance, he just might have turned on the Kirk charm and made the Vulcan's wait while he took advantage of the delicately beautiful young brunette. The second he thought about charming this young, beautiful woman out of her uniform, though, he didn't feel even the slightest hint of interest. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the only person that he wanted to see withering on a flat surface, naked underneath him was his first officer.

With a grunt, he flattened himself onto the floor and stretched to reach the very back of the overstuffed chair that was pushed against the far wall of his room. He wiggled his fingers until they touched the soft leather of a boot. With a feeling of intense satisfaction, he pulled the boot out from under the chair.

"Aha!" he crowed, pushing himself off of the floor and grabbing his other boot. He sat down to put them on and blinked. They were both right boots.

Kirk blinked as the Ensign snickered softly, unable to turn quickly enough to hide her smile. With a scowl, he set them on the table and paced the room, searching for the left boot. "Come on, come on!" he grumbled, his impatience building up. If the god of shoes would give him back his left boot, he would come back here right after this transmission and clean his entire room. It would be so spotless that you'd be able to eat off the floor.

"Found one!" the Ensign called from his bedroom.

"Is it a lefty?" he asked, moving towards the doorway.

"Yup!" Jenkins said brightly, handing him the shoe with an expression of pure triumph on her face.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Kirk sent a fervent prayer of thanks to the shoe gods. "You deserve a promotion for this," he teased, grabbing the shoe and tugging it on as he hopped over to the table and grabbed his other boot.

Jenkins smiled and drew herself up proudly as she followed the Captain out of his room and watched him hop halfway to the turbo lift before the right boot popped onto his foot. "No, sir, I believe I deserve a promotion for many other things," she replied, giving the captain a knowing smirk as the doors shut.

"Such as?" he replied, raising an eyebrow and staring down at her.

She blinked wide, rather mischievous eyes up at him. "Helping Lieutenant Uhura to chase you around deck D trying to get you to put back on your pants last week for a start," she replied, her face completely straight.

Kirk tugged on his shirt, clearing his throat. He tried and failed to keep the red flush of embarrassment from creeping up his neck.

Sensing his discomfort, the Ensign pursed her lips to try to hide her smile. "Don't worry, Captain, you didn't run long. You locked yourself into Commander Spock's quarters a few moments after we first caught the sight of you. When we asked you to come out, you told us that you weren't coming out until, I quote, Mr. Spock 'hauled his pointy eared ass up there'. We decided that it would be safer to just let you sleep it off than to risk a confrontation with security," she replied, the grin stretching her face just as the doors opened to the bridge.

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Kirk nodded to the elder Spock, beating back the feeling of discomfort at seeing the older version of the man he'd been searching for for the past five months. "Ambassador," he said, forcing himself to smile.

The Vulcan nodded in return, the black eyes that Kirk had dreamed of warming in greeting. "Jim, it is good to see you," the Vulcan greeted him, folding his hands on the table in front of him. "I have good news."

Blinking, Jim tilted his head at the time traveller. "Good news?" he asked, keeping his breathing normal and trying not to let the surge of hope that maybe the Romulans had given Spock back, to break free.

"I have been reassigned by the Council. I am now the Federation's Ambassador to Romulus," he replied, giving the human man a knowing look. "There is a diplomatic meeting in two weeks on Sizix, a planet located just inside the Empire's boarders to discuss an alliance against the growing Orion and Klingon threat. Since all of the Vulcan escort vessels are currently on a mission, I find myself in need of a transport. If you're finished with your current mission, Captain, I would like to request to be allowed to board the Enterprise with my aid, Soran."

Blue eyes lit with fierce emotion as the Captain stared at the Vulcan. "I'll set course for your location immediately, Ambassador Spock," he replied, leaning forward.

The Vuclan's lips curled slightly around the edges as he nodded. "I shall see you soon, then, Captain. Live long and prosper." he replied, saluting the man in the traditional Vulcan way before he ended the transmission.

Kirk pushed off the chair and double timed into the bridge, completely forgetting his promise to the god of shoes. "Set course for the Vulcan Colony on the New Shi'Kar," he commanded as he settled into his chair. "Maximum warp."

As the ship's engines purred to life, he closed his eyes and licked his lips, trying to focus on the warmth that had dwelled in his mind since the day he'd saved Spock's life. Blocking out the sounds on the bridge, he desperately tried to send his hope through their link. 'I'm getting closer, Spock, just hang on,' he thought fervently, his hands clutching onto the arms of his command chair.

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Okay, Chapter 13 is up! I know all of you have been VERY impatient for Spock to be rescued, but I had to rescue Sulu first. Poor lil guy. At least Spock is somewhere that is more than a little safe. The Preator wouldn't let anything happen to him, while Sulu was thrown to the wolves. He's a tough little thing, though, and I'm sure he'll bounce right back. :)

Thank you for all of your reviews and suggestions! I hope that I've adjusted fire according to the whims of you, my readers. If you have any more input, feel free to let me know. If you're too shy to review, PM me. :) I'll try to respond promptly.

Lee


	14. Chapter 14

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Strong sexual content in this chapter and probably every chapter from here to god. lol Fortunately, in this one, there's contact between the main pairing of the story.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock are the main paring.

A/N: This will probably be one of the last chapters with the Preator in it and one of the last chapters with Spock in captivity. Thank you all for being patient with my muse. He's very naughty.

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Slowly, Spock opened his eyes, feeling the engines of the warbird that he'd been travelling in for three days now, powering down. He glanced up at the window and saw the blue and brown of a class M planet slide into view. Licking his lips, he moved to get out off of the covers, only to be pulled back against the warm, firm chest of the Romulan that he'd been sharing a bed with.

"Mmm, let them wait," the Preator mumbled, leaning forward and nuzzling the back of Spock's neck.

Relaxing back, Spock stared across the room and sighed softly. He let the warmth of the Romulan's body seep into his veins. No matter how many years he flew, or how much he loved the thrill of space exploration he always was cold on board of a space ship. One of the only positive things about being the slave to a Romulan was that they kept their ships much warmer than humans did.

"What are you thinking?" the Romulan asked, his voice deep and rough from sleep.

After a few minutes, Spock sighed and closed his eyes. "The difference between how temperatures are controlled on Federation and Romulan ships," he replied simply.

"Mmm. Really?" the Preator replied noncommittally, stroking his free hand up and down the flat planes of Spock's abdomen.

Spock shifted, slightly uncomfortable with the close proximity of his Master's hand to his neither regions. When he tried to shift away, he ended up wiggling tighter against the Preator's body. With every shift of his body, the fles that was cushioning him grew warmer and more excited.

Just as Spock was going to elaborate to try and distract the Romulan, the door chime to the Preator's quarters rang. Spock felt the draft of cold air as the man that had been dominating most of the bed easily slid over him. He watched as the muscular officer grabbed the pants that he shed on the way towards the bed last night and tugged them on before opening the door.

"Sir, I apologize for waking you, but we've just reached the planet. The Ambassador is waiting for you," a young Romulan officer said briskly, saluting the Preator.

"Thank you. My Companion and I will be transporting to the planet's surface in approximately half an hour. See to it that my rooms planet side are ready," the Preator replied before he returned the young man's salute and shut the door.

As soon as the door was shut, Spock slipped out of the warm blankets and shivered. He grabbed his discarded clothing and tugged it on, feeling the gooseflesh rise on his pale skin. "I'll go prepare myself for the transport," the Vulcan said, gratefully pulling on his clothing and padding towards the door.

He stopped when the Preator's hand grabbed his arm when he was walking past. When he turned to look at the Romulan, his lips were captured in a slow, warm kiss. Spock let his eyelids slide shut, relaxing into the embrace.

"Remember," the Preator whispered, nipping at his lip before he pulled away. "That you are mine. Mine to protect or destroy as I see fit. Never forget to whom you belong."

Spock blinked at him for a second before he nodded. "Yes, Vadi," he replied, reaching up to gently pull the man's hand off of his arm.

As he walked down the hall, the Vulcan kept his eyes down, not wanting to betray himself by letting any of his emotions show. He refused to give into the illogical feelings trying to push through his shields. Slipping into his room after pacing down the short corridor between the suit that his Master had been given and the one that he had been placed in, Spock leaned against the shut door for a moment.

Closing his eyes, he remembered the very possessive light that had shown in the Romulan man's eyes. He sighed, knowing that the words that had been uttered by his Master had been true. Spock's body did belong to him, and if he so chooses, he could have his slave put to death.

With the uncomfortable revelation in his mind, the Vulcan pushed off of the wall and headed towards the small bathroom attached to his room. He had twenty minutes to dress and pack. If he was going to complete all of it on time, he needed to get started.

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Kirk fidgeted in his dress uniform, the brilliant golden colour attracting the eye almost as much as the man wearing it. He shifted in his seat again, anticipation grating on his nerves. The Enterprise had entered orbit around the small planet just inside of Romulan space a few hours ago, and he knew that his crew was walking on razors.

Taking a deep breath, he looked around the beautiful marble room that they'd been taken to when they'd first arrived to await the Romulan delegation. It was opulent, beautiful, and slightly reminiscent of some of the Vulcan architecture that he'd seen in some of his classes at the academy.

During the trip out to the planet, he'd questioned the elder Vulcan about the intricacies of the bond that he now shared with his First Officer. Since the man was much more apt to share information than his younger counterpart, Kirk was much more aware of everything that the bond entailed. Kirk stiffened when the warmth that he knew was Spock's mind, brushing slightly against his own, flared softly. His excitement grew when he realized that it wasn't dimming.

Spock was somewhere on the planet's surface.

"He's here," he said quietly, turning to look at the Vulcan who was sitting calmly next to him.

"Patience, Jim," the man said, his calm, sure voice soothing the young Captain's nerves.

There was a flutter of movement from the doorway before a set of Romulan guards stepped through and moved in concert to either side of it. Just as they took up their positions, the Ambassador that Spock Prime had been communicating with walked calmly through, his diplomatic robes providing a startling contrast to the man who stepped in after him.

The Preator of the Romulan Empire was dressed from head to toe in black. His uniform coat was cut perfectly to showcase the broad shoulders that Kirk vividly remembered from when he'd seen the man nude in Spock's dream. The tattoos of his office were stark, giving his face a savage appearance as he scanned the assembled Federation delegation, his golden eyes stopping as they reached the human Captain of the Enterprise. Kirk saw the man's eyes narrow softly before the Preator gave him a very slight smile, the expression on his face one of predatory amusement.

Jim's blood boiled as he stared back, knowing that this man had been holding his First Officer captive for months now, doing untold amounts of damage to the Vulcan.

"Ambassidor Spock," the Romulan diplomat greeted, smiling at the Vulcan and stepping towards their group, unaware of the tension that was thrumming through the two commanders.

"Ambassador Nalus, it's good to finally meet you in person," Spock greeted, stepping forward and offering the Vulcan salute to the Romulan delegation. "This is my escort, Captain James T Kirk of the USS Enterprise, his chief medical officer, Dr. Leonard McCoy, and my aide, Soran."

Nodding towards each of the party members, the Romulan diplomat turned and held out a hand towards the imposing man in the all black uniform. "This is the Preator of the Romulan fleet, Tomiloc and his aide, Toreth," Nalus said, nodding towards the men as he introduced them.

Kirk forced his hands to remain unclenched as the Romulan stared at him, their eyes clashing. He refused to look away from the man that was holding his bondmate prisoner. Anger roared through him, the emotion growing stronger by the second. He took a deep breath and plastered a smile on his face as he stared at the Preator.

'I'm going to kill you, you son of a bitch,' he thought, as his blue eyes glittered dangerously. Just as he felt his impulsive nature asserting itself, he felt the warmth at the back of his mind grow slightly stronger. He blinked as his sense of Spock's presence in his mind strengthened until it blocked out any sense of anger that had been running through him. The diplomats continued to speak, but Kirk ignored what they were saying, trusting in the Vulcan next to him to queue him in to any pertinent discussions.

The Preator stood silently behind Naklus, a very smug smile affixed to his face as he stared at the human. He looked away long enough to nod in approval as the diplomat suggested that they begin the meal that had been planned before they start in on the afternoons negotiations.

Blinking, the human looked over at Bones as the man nudged him gently towards the doorway. Kirk watched the Preator walk out, leading the Romulans with complete confidence. The sense of Spock's presence grew in his mind the deeper they walked into the large building, letting him know that they were getting closer and closer to where the Vulcan was being kept.

He caught Spock's eye as they walked down the elegantly appointed hallway. "He's here," he mouthed silently.

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow but inclined his head noncommittally, his steps never faltering as he walked forwards.

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Spock paced the confines of his Master's room, his hands steepled at his back. He could feel the anger and outrage brushing against his mind. Since he knew there was no reason for him to feel those emotions, he knew they had to be coming from his link with James Kirk.

It meant that the human was close. Very close.

For the first time in months, a tiny bit of hope that all this would end, grew inside of him. He pushed it back, though, as he forced his logical mind to think clearly. How was he going to inform the crew of his presence on the planet without endangering what he knew was probably a very delicate diplomatic situation?

If he tried to contact them via the communications network, he would be caught and the Preator would be forced to punish him. It could even put an end to the peace negotiations between their people. Despite his current situation, he knew that there was no way he could, in good conscience, put his safety above the welfare of millions of beings.

Glancing out the window, he saw the beautiful colours of the sunset on the planet fading from the sky. The negotiations would be ending soon and his Master would be returning to the room that he was being kept in. Pursing his lips, Spock forced himself to settle down onto the bed.

Folding his legs underneath him, he took a deep breath and calmed his mind, automatically finding the still, silent place that existed in every Vulcan. He closed his eyes and centred his mind, focusing his thoughts on the human man that he was bonded to. The sense of Kirk's presence in his mind started to eclipse everything else.

He felt the human's emotions break over him, their flavour familiar to his mind and welcomed after the months of absence. Slowly, he eased his way into the human's mind, straining his abilities to reach out to the man. 'Jim? Can you hear me?' he asked softly, hoping that his mental voice stretched out to the Captain.

Relief washed over him as he heard the human softly reply, 'Spock? Thank God! I knew you were here!'

'Jim, I'm being held in the Preator's rooms. They have me under constant surveillance and I have a tracker attached to me that I cannot remove. Did you mange to find the others?' he replied, his shoulders sagging slightly.

Anger from is human bondmate washed through his mind. 'We'll figure a way to get you out of there, Spock. Sulu and Checkov are safe, and they are recovering. Be careful, Spock. He seems to know who I am,' Kirk's mental voice echoed through his mind. 'I promise you I'll never abandon you. You're not alone.'

Spock's heart gave an unsteady beat as he felt the Captain's mind fade from his own, transported back to the Enterprise orbiting the planet. He kept his eyes closed, illogically hoping that if he were to stay that way, he would be able to make himself disappear through their mental link and reappear next to the sandy haired man.

A soft, gentle touch of leather to his face snapped Spock out of his meditation. He jerked his head back, opening his eyes and raising them to meet the shuttered gold eyes of his Romulan master, snapping reality back into focus with a brutal force.

"Vadi," he said quietly, lowering his eyes and quickly shielding his mind with the steely barriers that he'd perfected. "I didn't hear you come in. How was your meeting?"

The Romulan tugged off his gloves, tossing them onto the nightstand next to the bed before he reached up and started to remove his dress coat. "Productive," he replied, easing his coat off and walking over to the desk set against one wall. He draped his coat over the back of the chair before he turned back to his slave, an unreadable expression on his face.

Nodding, Spock eased himself off of the bed, waiting for the man's orders. "Would you like something to eat?" he asked, motioning towards the platter of fruit that had been delivered this afternoon in difference to his vegetarian diet.

When the Romulan moved forward, Spock held his ground and kept his eyes downcast. Even when he saw the man's hand coming towards his face, he kept still. The Preator's bare skin stroked over his face, caressing the Vulcan's cheek before he leaned forward and captured his slave's lips.

"I would enjoy sharing a meal with you, Shiavo. It would be much more preferable to the company that I have been keeping all day," the Romulan whispered into the kiss, drawing Spock forward until the tall Vulcan's frame was pressed intimately against his own. He stroked his hands up and down the ebony haired man's spine through the fabric of the black sleeveless tunic he'd donned that morning at his Master's request.

Forcing his body to relax, Spock let his arms circle around the Preator's waist, laying his cheek against the soft undershirt that the man favoured. He breathed deeply, the spicy, alien scent of the Romulan tugging at hundreds of memories. Automatically, his body relaxed farther into the warmth of the man's arms even as his mind was awash with the guilt and shame that had been his constant companion for months now.

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Strong, sure hands slid up the sides of his body, making him arch and moan with the pleasure of the caress. Warm lips trailed kisses down his side before they nipped at his hip and drew a moan of pleasure from his lips. He gasped as his eyes flew open as warm lips surrounded his member, drawing him deep into the depths of a very talented mouth.

When he glanced down, the brilliant gold eyes of the Preator of the Romulan military stared up at him for a second before they closed again. The tattoos of rank lent a slightly exotic look to the harsh lines of the man's face as he drew Spock's body closer and closer to climax. Just as he was about to let go, the Romulan released him.

A groan of pure carnal hunger slipped out of the normally silent Vulcan's mouth and his hips lifted, begging for his torment to end. "Vadi, please," he moaned, closing his eyes and withering as the man's body covered his own. His hands released the bars of the headboard that he'd been gripping so that they could grip the man's shoulders and pull him down.

The familiar weight settled against him as his lips were claimed in a scorching kiss that made the ache in his body scream for release. When the Romulan's hands slipped under his hips, raising his body into position, Spock almost cried with relief. He felt the man brush his prepared entrance, making his nails dig into the Romulan's shoulders with the strength of his need.

"Never forget, Shiavo that you belong to me. You're mine," the Romulan whispered into the Vulcan's ear as he slowly eased his way into the willing body beneath him. "I want to hear you say it, Spock."

Gasping with pleasure, the Vulcan wrapped his legs around the Romulan's waist. He withered against the man, arching his body towards the man's warmth. "You, Vadi, I belong to you," he moaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as the Preator angled his body to hit his slave's prostate.

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Kirk sat upright in bed, shaking and gasping from the force of the passion that had been rolling through his mind and body. He shuddered as the Preator's face flashed in front of his eyes. He closed his own, rubbing his hands vigorously over his face to wash away the sights and sounds that had come through his bond with Spock.

He felt the soft sting of betrayal run through him at the thought of his bondmate with another. More than just with another, Spock had been willing, excited even to be in the man's arms. How could his first officer give himself over to someone like that? The Romulan was more than just an enemy of the Federation, he was the man that had bought Spock!

"It depends on how willing he is..."

Ambassador Spock's words echoed in his mind as he walked through his quarters, turning on the lights so that he wouldn't fall back asleep. Taking a deep, calming breath, he forced his jealousy away for the moment. If the Vulcan's words were correct, then Spock was only giving in to the Preator's demands on his body to protect himself, which would be logical.

Licking his lips, he sat on the couch in his quarters and dropped his head into his hands. He shivered again as the backlash of desire washed through him, tormenting his senses. Even this far away, the Vulcan's emotions and passion shook him. He'd never even guessed that the man's cold exterior could hide such a heat and desire.

Kirk sighed, remembering the fire in the man's eyes the day that he'd taken control of the Enterprise the first time. He should have guessed that an equal physical passion lay buried under his iron will. It hadn't occurred to him, though, even after Spock had accidentally created the mental link between them.

Opening his eyes and fighting for the first time to ignore the Vulcan's presence in his mind, Kirk looked around at his very messy cabin and decided that it was time to keep his promise to the shoe gods. Standing, he busied his hands with the meaningless tasks of cleaning his room.

When, after an hour and a half, the emotions raging in the back of his mind still hadn't stopped, he threw his hands up in the air. How long could one man go for? They'd been at it for almost two hours straight! He knew that Vulcan's had legendary endurance, but this was getting ridiculous. If there were some way for him to stop this...

With a sudden clarity of insight, he remembered the day that Spock had burst into his room, injured and angry.

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(Flashback )

Kirk's eyed Spock as he got to his feet from where he'd been lounging in nothing more than a pair of loose shorts on the couch. "Can I help you, Spock?" he asked, irritation breaking through the lust that had been paramount in his mind.

"Yeoman, I believe you have other duties to attend to," the Vulcan told the young blonde that had been entertaining him before they'd been interrupted. Kirk ignored the stiff set of Spock's shoulders, the foreign anger that pushed at him from the bond that he hadn't wanted any part of in the first place, and the way the man's hands had fisted at his side, a sure sign that his steely control was slipping.

Before Kirk could say anything, the woman grabbed her boots and hustled out the door. She'd been on the bridge the last time he'd had that look, and she didn't want to be anywhere near Spock when he lost it again. There were limits to what Kirk's charm could do, and crossing that Vulcan was more than she was willing to bite off.

"You have two seconds to explain yourself," Kirk growled, crossing his arms over his bare chest as the door shut behind the young woman.

Kirk watched the Vulcan's eyes narrow, and he took a deep breath as a new wave of desire washed through him. Spock was beautiful in his anger and despite how angry he may have been at the unwanted intrusion, he still felt desire for his first officer.

"This is completely unacceptable," Spock said, his voice thick with anger. "I have tried to be as polite as I possibly can about this, but your constant liaisons are keeping me from getting any rest what-so-ever. It is unprofessional."

Kirk's eyes narrowed as he stood and stepped closer to the Vulcan, frustration and guilt rolling through his mind. "I don't see how anything that I do or do not do is any of your damn business," he growled, his hands clenching into fists.

"Every decision that you make effects not only me but this ship as well," he hissed back, his short, even fingernails digging into his palms as his fists tightened.

The human's intense eyes narrowed and focused in on the Vulcan in front of him, stepping closer and invading more of the very private man's personal space. "Are you questioning my authority?" he asked. "You want to go another round with me, Spock?"

Before he even knew that he was moving, Jim shoved him backwards. He watched with mounting emotions as the man was forced back a step, the rage that was pushing at him not wholly coming from his own mind.

Spock's hands shoved him back, just before he tackled the human around the waist and threw them both over the coffee table. When they landed, Kirk felt Spock's hands go for his throat again and he bucked under the slim man's weight. He ignored the pain that was coming from his throat as he bucked upwards, aiming a blow at the Vulcan's back. As his knee scored a direct hit, he felt Spocks hands loosen from around his throat, letting air back in.

Kirk bucked up, surprising Spock and slamming him into the coffee table. The still stunned Vulcan's head cracked against the metal seconds before Kirk saw stars when his first officer's elbow scored a lucky blow to his cheekbone. He didn't stop, though, and when he felt the man's hands come at his throat again, he grabbed a hold of them and flipped the Vulcan off of him. Slamming the man's hands down on the decking, he panted, hoping that the Vulcan still hadn't recovered his full strength yet.

As he stared down at the perfection of the Vulcan's face, Kirk felt the anger that was rolling through him change slightly. He felt the desire that had been roused in him earlier roar back to life with a vengeance. Leaning down, he slowly brought his face closer to the other man's, his eyes roaming over the exotic beauty of Spock's full lips, strong bones structure, and thickly lashed eyes.

"Look at me, damn you," Kirk hissed, leaning on the Vulcan's wrists so the small distance that he'd managed to put towards freedom disappeared. He panted harder as he felt Spock wiggle under him, making his body grow full and heavy with desire. He saw the robes that had been disrupted during their struggle gape open, revealing the still healing bruises that dotted Spock's ribs.

When the Vulcan's angry eyes snapped back to his own, Kirk settled his weight more firmly against the deceptively delicate frame under his own. He shifted until their bodies were aligned just right, feeling the alien emotions that were pushing at him shift from anger to desire as he purposely moved against Spock's groin.

Slowly, Kirk lowered his lips lower. He watched Spock carefully for any signs of rejection, but when he didn't see anything but a hazy desire burn through the ebony depths of the man's eyes, he gently pressed his lips against the Vulcan's. The kiss began slowly, but quickly heated as he felt the responsive body under his own arch and moan.

With ruthless precision, Kirk took advantage of the Vulcan's gasp of shock when he pressed his desire against Spock's own rapidly hardening body. His tongue stroked along the full lips under him before it delved into the warmth of his first officer's mouth.

Instinctively, Jim rocked his body against the Vulcan's, making the normally stoic man throw his head back. Bracing his hands on the decking, the Captain nipped and kissed his way down the alien's jaw to his neck. He smiled into the warm skin as he nipped a sensitive spot and the man's hips bucked under him.

Afraid that Spock would hurt himself more, Kirk skimmed one of his hands over the fabric covering the Vulcan's side until he reached his hips. He gently pushed him flat to the floor, shifting so that the ebony haired man was forced to spread his legs slightly wider to accommodate the Captain.

'Oh god, please don't stop,' the Vulcan's voice whispered, seeming to come from everywhere at once. Kirk shivered as the scientists short nails drug down his chest. He slid his hand more firmly onto the Vulcan's hip, moving his fingers slowly towards the center of Spock's desire.

'Not on your life,' he thought, tracing the foreign shape of Spock's ear with his tongue before he gently sucked what was obviously one of the Vulcan's endogenous zones into his mouth. When Spock pushed at him and pulled his ear away, the Captain nipped at his neck gently, his mind still reeling with the force of his desire.

"Wait," he heard Spock pant, even as the man's body arched into his own.

"What?" he panted, his hips pressing against Spock's slightly harder.

"No," Spock breathed, his hips rising in what seemed like an involuntary gesture. "No, please wait."

Kirk pushed himself up, his whole body hovering over the Vulcan's. "What's wrong?" he asked, confusion trying to push at the desire that was clouding his mind.

When the Vulcan tried to take a deep breath and agony contorted his features, Kirk felt like an ass. Here he was, trying to take advantage of an injured man.

"Shit, Spock, I'm sorry," Jim said, sitting back on his haunches and looking down at the deep emerald bruises that marred the perfect skin of the Vulcan's chest and abdomen. "I forgot about these."

Unable to stop himself, Kirk reached out and traced his fingers over the slender man's chest and stomach. He blinked up into Spock's eyes when the Vulcan grabbed his hand to stop his exploration.

"Please, Cap-," he started, only to be silenced as Kirk stopped his words by caressing his kiss swollen lips.

His thumb traced over Spock's lower lip as his intense, passion filled eyes stared the Vulcan down. "I think you can call me Jim, now," he said, a very lazy smile slyly stretching his lips.

With a growing sense of unease, Kirk watched as Spock pulled himself away. Licking his lips, he let the object of his desire back away and close the gaping edges of his robe, hiding the bruises that marred the perfection of his porcelain skin. Guilt raged through him as he saw the stiff way the Vulcan was moving. First he'd baited the Vulcan, then he'd beaten on someone that he already knew was weakened, and as the icing on the cake, he'd tried to molest the man.

"Spock, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," he said, his hands resting on his thighs. "It was out of line."

"You must forgive me. My actions were also inexcusable," Spock replied, looking away from Jim.

Jim's eyebrows furrowed before he reached out and gently tipped the Vulcan's chin up until he could look into his eyes. "Spock," he said, moving his hand until it cupped the man's cheek. "What was wrong?"

'Please,' Kirk heard whispered through his mind as a wave of exhaustion swamped him, shocking Kirk with the depth of the Vulcan's fatigue. He licked his lips, fighting his instinctive fear of anyone sharing his thoughts before he tentatively brushed his mind back against the Vuclan's.

"I have been rather bad, haven't I?" he asked, dropping his hand to his side. "I tell you what. I'll make you a deal. If I don't have to put up with anymore desert views, you won't have another restless night."

"Thank you, Cap- Jim," Spock replied, inclining his head slightly as he started to shiver slightly. "If you'll forgive me, I think I should return to my quarters now." He rose to his feet slowly, looking down at the top of the Captain's head for a few seconds before he turned for the door.

"Spock," Kirk called after him as he palmed open the door.

"Yes?" Spock asked without turning around.

"When you're not hurt anymore, we're going to finish this discussion," he said softly, promise ripe in his voice as he stared after the Vulcan that had escaped him for the time being.

(End flashback)

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'Now I know why he barged in that day,' he thought as he stared down at the bare spot on his floor where he'd kissed his Vulcan First Officer for the first time so long ago. He sank to his knees, staring at the spot even as a wave of intense pleasure ripped through him, causing his own spine to bow as his bondmate was finally allowed to find realese.

He felt the Vulcan's mind shut down, and he knew that Spock had passed out from the orgasm that left Kirk's mind weak and moulded. 'I'm so sorry, Spock. If I'd known it was like this for you every time I took someone to my bed, I wouldn't have done it,' he thought, running his fingers over his now spotless carpet.

Looking around the now exceptionally clean room, Kirk ran a hand through his sandy hair and sighed. Pushing his guilt and jealousy from his mind, he stood up and headed for the shower. Since he wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight, he might as well get some work done.

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Sorry about the length of time between updates. Things have been getting really crazy lately IRL, so it might be a while until my next chapter. :( Thank you to everyone who has added this story to their favorites and a special thanks to everyone who reviewed. It's like a ray of sunshine in my day.

Read and review! Let me know if you like the direction that I think my muse is going. He and I are arguing at the moment. He's just mad that I look better in hot pink leather pants. :P

Lee


	15. Chapter 15

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: Strong sexual content, some character abuse, lots of plot. :)

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock are the main pair, though I do have Spock in captivity right now, so he's paired with an OC. Poor Spock

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Spock blinked open his eyes, fighting the urge to just groan and roll over. His body was limp, completely sated from the pleasure that had been wrung from his body the night before. He could still feel the Preator's hands on his skin even though the man had risen from the bed and was walking nude across the room towards the bathing room attached to his suite.

The sleek muscles beneath the man's skin bunched and rippled before the door shut, hiding the completely masculine body from view. Spock let his eyes drift shut once he was alone, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillows. He let his mind open, tracing the faint link that led back to the man he hadn't let himself think about in months.

When his mental shields had come down last night during the Romulan's aggressive love making, he'd felt Jim's sudden awareness, but hadn't been able to stop the feelings that his body had become trained to feel over the weeks. It had shamed him slightly that his human bondmate had been forced to endure the experience with him.

It gave him no pleasure to, as his mother would say, turn the tables on Kirk.

Spock's sensitive hearing picked up the sounds of the Preator showering, and unbidden, an image of the man's body, nude and covered with bubbles popped into his mind. Sighing with a mild hint of irritation, the Vulcan pushed himself up on his elbows and climbed out of the bed. His eyes scanned the floor until he picked up the clothing that the Romulan had stripped from his body slowly the night before.

Pulling on the loose pants, he ignored the glint of metal on his wrists, biceps, ankles, and thighs. The bands that were a mark of his status in Romulan society were never far from his mind, constantly reminding him that the only reason he was still alive right now was because of his Vadi's good graces. He silently padded over to the bowl of fruit that was sitting on the table next to the window and selected a Sebac; a Romulan fruit similar to a Terran mango in taste but with the texture of an apple.

The Vulcan moved over to the window and looked out at the beautiful, but stark landscape of the planet that they were on. The brilliant, slightly blue illumination from the hot sun that the little planet was orbiting bathed the stunted trees and grass that grew around the Romulan's compound. The flora and fauna of this particular planet were all hearty, scrub like plants that could survive the perpetual drought that seemed evident to this place.

Spock's mind ran through the possibilities as his eyes catalogued the deep trenches around the compound that gave it the look of a Terran medieval fortress surrounded by a moat. Most likely, the planet had one rainy season a year, resulting in precipitation so heavy that it would give all of the scrubby plants enough water to last them until the next year.

He studied the sky, tilting his head as he tried to estimate their position on the globe as well as the current season while he consumed his breakfast.

When the shower turned off, Spock was leaning towards the window, having spotted a lizard-like creature darting from one tree to the next. He was trying to peer closer at the section of trees that the little animal had darted into when a warm, damp hand settled on his bare shoulder. Controlling the urge to jump, Spock shut the walls to his mind swiftly. He looked back at the Romulan, sliding out of his chair and kneeling in front of the Preator.

"Good morning, Vadi," he said quietly, bowing his head so that he could compose himself. The fact that his hearing hadn't alerted him when his Master had finished his shower was disconcerting. He'd grown far too comfortable around the man.

Raising an eyebrow, the Romulan reached out and ran his hand through Spock's long hair. "Good morning, Shiavo. Did you sleep well?" he asked, his tone carefully polite.

Spock carefully blocked the man's mind from his own, leaning into the touch. "Yes, Vadi," he replied, catching the hint of frustration that was directed at him from the Preator's mind. "I trust your own rest was acceptable?"

When the Romulan slipped a hand under his chin and tilted his face up, Spock obliged the man, staring deep into the beautiful golden eyes that were so unusual for a member of either of their species. Fleetingly, the Vulcan wondered from which side of his family the man had inherited the golden orbs. As the man smiled down at him, Spock kept his face carefully neutral.

After a second, Spock rose to his feet. He fought the urge to lower his eyes again as the Romulan's hand ghosted from his face down his arm. Goose flesh rose on his skin as the man's hand slipped easily over the band wrapped around his bicep and continued down to the one encircling his wrist.

Willingly, Spock let the Preator draw his hand up until it slipped around the man's neck. Taking a step closer, Spock slipped his other hand up and around the man's neck, letting his body relax against the taller Romulan's chest. He took a deep breath and let it out, allowing the warmth of the man's emotions relax the muscles that would be rigid with tension otherwise.

"Shiavo, will you help me to dress?" the Romulan asked softly, his breath tickling the sensitive tip of Spock's ear.

Nodding, the Vulcan took a step back and turned towards the closet, missing the superior smirk on the Romulan's face. He quickly gathered the man's uniform and returned, laying out each piece of clothing carefully to keep the fabric from wrinkling. When he ran his fingertips over the uniform trousers, Spock felt a sharp jab of longing for his own uniform.

Looking down at the jacket, he ran his fingertips over the rank insignia for a second before he pushed the melancholy emotions that were fighting their way through his mental disciplines back. He moved aside and watched as the Preator nodded.

"If you may?" he asked, motioning towards the clothing and holding his palms up.

Raising an eyebrow at the slightly less than dignified request, the Vulcan handed the Preator his black silky undershorts and reached for the trousers that would cover them.

Chuckling, the Commander of the Romulan's military pulled on his own clothing. Spock grabbed the uniform coat and held it up for the large man to slip into, stepping around him to smooth the fastenings shut. He ran his hands over the fabric, remembering the first time he'd put on his uniform as a Starfleet cadet. It had been one of the proudest moments of his life, the bittersweet joy of choosing his own path had given him a sense of freedom that he'd never felt before.

And he'd never feel again.

Before he could school his features into indifference, the Romulan raised his chin and stared into his eyes before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his slave's forehead. "I'll return by nightfall, Shiavo, don't worry," he whispered in Romulan against the Vulcan's skin, wrapping Spock's slim body in his arms and holding him tightly for a moment before he left.

Alone once again, Spock turned towards the bathroom and walked into the small room. He didn't even notice the small bit of moisture that trickled down his cheeks from his eyes, the tears mixing with the warm water from the shower head.

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Nyota Uhura pursed her full, lush lips and crossed her arms under her ample chest as she watched the Captain, the Vulcan aide, and Ambassador Spock step off of the transporter pad. She didn't see the tall, lean Vulcan that had caught her attention so many years ago with them, and it caused her heart to squeeze painfully.

Spock was still on the planet with the Romulan that had been keeping him captive. Controlling herself, she nodded to the Ambassador as he passed before she turned to the Captain.

Kirk's blue eyes were sad, their blue depths shining with worry that matched her own. Her mouth opened, but he held up a hand, glancing over at the transporter technician that was watching the two of them with avid interest. She inclined her head towards the door before turning on her heel and heading down the hall towards the lift that would take them to the bridge.

"Have you been able to make any progress with their jamming signal?" he asked softly once they were out of the room, knowing that her sensitive hearing would pick up his words.

Sighing in irritation, the communications officer shook her head. "Their encryption algorithm is still giving us a little trouble. It doesn't help that there's only three members of the entire crew that can speak Romulan," she replied, sending out a silent thanks to the instructor at the Academy that had favoured the language in his advanced courses.

Nodding, Kirk pushed the button that would signal the lift and tugged at the collar of the gold jacket that he'd been wearing all day. "Pull whoever you need for this. I want to know where the Preator is headed after this or if he is going to be here for a while. The best chance we have of getting Spock if they are not going to return him through diplomatic channels is when he will be in transit," he replied, looking over at the woman next to him.

Uhura nodded; her ponytail bobbing as she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You love him, don't you?" she asked, staring straight ahead at the doors to the lift that hadn't opened yet. She ignored the moisture that tried to gather in her large, exotic eyes and watched the captain jump and stare at her out of the corner of her eye.

A deep sadness lodged in her heart as she watched the Captain's cheeks flush slightly with guilt. His eyes flicked away from her face for a second before he brought them back, broadcasting his guilt to her trained eye. "Uhura," he started, his hand coming up in supplication.

Turning to face him, the communications officer stared at the man that had so blithely made a pass at her just a few months before. "You don't have to explain," she said, slicing her hand through the air as the lift arrived. She stepped in and waited until the Captain was on before she pushed the button that would send them to the bridge.

She watched the man squirm with a small sense of satisfaction before the captain drew himself up. "Does it matter?" he asked; the normally jovial tone in his voice completely absent.

Shaking her head, she looked at the saviour of the Federation and one of the youngest Starfleet captain's in the history of the organization. Her eyes wandered over his classically handsome features for a moment, watching his face carefully for any sign of strain. When his mouth remained relaxed and the muscles of his jaw didn't even twitch, she turned to stare at the doors of the lift. "Not right now," she replied, her lips pursing to keep in the words that threatened to spill out of her mouth unchecked.

Antagonizing the man wouldn't do her any good. Nor would it bring Spock back to her any faster. She knew that Kirk would move heaven and earth to save any member of his crew, but if he was indeed in love with the Vulcan, she had no doubt that the human would go to any lengths to bring Spock home.

There would be plenty of time once the First Officer was back safe and sound, to debate the strange love triangle that had developed between the three of them.

She marched off of the lift as soon as the doors opened, not looking back at the Captain as she sat down at her station and fitted the earpiece that allowed her to hear outside of the confines of the ship's hull. With a vengeance, she flipped a few switches on her console and tapped into the Romulan's communications network.

Everything was hinging on her ability to crack this code, and she'd be damned if she'd let some Romulan comm pipsqueak out manoeuvre her at her own game.

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Kirk stripped off the jacket of his uniform, rubbing at the grit that seemed to have lodged itself behind his eyelids. He shuffled into the bedroom and dropped his dress coat over the chair that sat next to his computer console. He toed off his shoes, wiggling his freed toes and sighing in relief.

He flopped face down on the coverlet, grasping for a pillow and pulling it under his cheek. It felt like he'd been rode hard and put away wet. Exhaustion from the lack of sleep the night before combined with the constant strain that had surrounded the negotiations was wearing him down. Sighing softly, his legs still hanging half off of the bed, Kirk surrendered to the exhaustion that had been tugging at him all day.

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Spock took a deep breath, knowing that his Vadi would be in meetings for the next few hours. He let his muscles relax, retreating inward. He slowed his heart rate automatically and slid into the meditative state that he'd been trained in since he was a young boy.

The room around him disappeared as he shut his eyes and imagined the dry, almost biting smell of the sands of his home world. The wind would have been hot, tugging at his newly grown hair and blowing it around his face. A small rock slide near him on the cliffs would send the rocks tinkling against each other. The sun would be setting right about now, sending a riot of colours through the desert sky.

Slowly, he took a deep breath, scenting the arid breeze that blew over his face. Spock opened his eyes, letting his lips curl into a small smile as he saw the familiar sight of sunset from Vulcan's beautiful mountains. He looked around the stark, bare rock that surrounded him and felt a deep sense of homecoming wash through him.

Logically, he knew that his planet was gone, that this place was nothing more than a figment of his mind, but the memory of the mountains near his parent's private villa never failed to bring him a sense of peace.

His nearly black eyes stared out at the glory of the sunset, letting the guilt and shame that he felt from his enslavement to the Romulan wash away in the hot wind that blew off of the plains. He tilted his head back, letting his hair billow out behind him.

"You know," a deep, male voice said quietly as footsteps crunched up behind him. "I thought you promised that we wouldn't have to come here anymore."

Spock closed his eyes, not wanting to see the man that he'd been forced to betray. "My apologies, Captain," he said, bringing his hands behind his back and clasping his hands.

"You know, I thought I told you to call me Jim," the blue eyed human replied, turning to look face to face with the Vulcan that he'd been searching the universe for. "Spock..."

Taking a deep breath, the tall, slender man turned and forced his eyes to open. Kirk was standing closer to him than he thought; the human invading what would normally be his personal space. Licking his lips, he opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. His stomach did a flip flop as the human gently traced his lower lip with his thumb. His eyelids fluttered shut as a wave of unfettered warmth and joy washed through his mind.

"I'm so sorry that it took us so long to find you, Spock," Kirk whispered, stepping forward and drawing the normally reticent man into the circle of his arms.

Spock shifted, slightly uncomfortable for a brief second as he felt the human's frame fit to his own. Unlike the Preator, Kirk was exactly the same height, the Captain's body being structured along stockier lines than his own. He inhaled, the familiar scents of human pheromones mixed to create an aroma that was wholly Kirk. Closing his eyes, he let his eyelids slide shut as he slipped his own arms around the man's shoulders.

Shaking his head, the Vulcan leaned his own cheek against Kirk's. "It is illogical to dwell on the things that we cannot change. You're here now," he replied, dropping his head on the human's shoulder.

The Vulcan felt a shudder run through the human's body and he held on slightly tighter, the guilt and outrage travelling from his bondmate's mind to his own. He felt Kirk sigh as the man's hands stroked up and down his back.

"Spock, where are you? Are you on the orbit on one of the ships, or are you in the compound?" Kirk asked, his fingers never faltering in their gentle strokes.

"I'm on the third floor of the compound in the East wing," he replied, a nervous knot forming in his stomach. "I have a tracking beacon attached to me at all times. The Preator..."

"Shhh," Kirk hushed his friend, leaning back and resting his fingertips against Spock's lips. "We'll figure it out, Spock. We're going to see if we can negotiate for the release of all Vulcans being held by the Empire in exchange for some dillithium that the Vulcan's found on their new home world. If that doesn't work, we'll figure something out. I'm not leaving here without you. You belong with us."

The Vulcan's heart gave a soft squeeze as he pressed his lips tighter against the work roughened hands of his former commanding officer. He nodded mutely, knowing that Starfleet would never jeopardize the peace that was forming between the Romulan Empire and their own weakened government because of one man. He wouldn't want them to.

The needs of the many always outweighed the needs of the few. Or the one.

He slid his hands out from behind the Captain's neck and brought them forward, cupping the strong, stubborn jaw of the brilliant man he'd longed for. Slowly, he leaned forwards and pressed his lips against Kirk's. The temperature of the human's skin was nowhere near a match for his own, but it didn't matter as the captain's mouth moved over his own.

A soft moan burned its way out of Spock's throat as he devoured the human, revelling in the passion that warmed him through their bond. When Kirk's body pressed tightly against his own, trapping his arms between the two of them, Spock pulled back. He shook his head, gently pushing the human back a step.

"I'm sorry," Kirk whispered, reaching up and cupping the Vulcan's face in his hands. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you, Spock."

"Cap-," he started, taking a deep breath. "Jim. There's something that you need to know."

The human's brilliant blue eyes stared directly into his, the intimacy making his stomach flutter. "What is it, Spock?" he asked, his voice deep and slightly rough with the passion that seemed to permeate every cell in the human's body.

"Jim, I can't-" he started, his eyes widening and a spike of fear for his bondmate as he felt the brush of a very familiar mind against his own. "He's here."

He pushed the human away from him, his Vulcan strength sending the human flying even as he tore himself away from the sight of his former home world. If the Romulan were to find him with his bondmate, even in the privacy of his own mind, there was a chance that he could be accused of espionage and summarily executed. Even though the man's telepathic powers weren't as strong as a full blooded Vulcan's, they were still strong enough to give Spock pause.

His eyes snapped open and he sucked in a breath, jerking away from the hand that was caressing his cheek automatically. The Vulcan's arm snapped up, the heel of his hand scoring a hit on the Romulan's chin. Just as he was about to follow his movement through, the Preator grabbed his wrists and twisted his arms and locked them just underneath his shoulder blades.

Taking a deep breath, Spock let his body go lax; having studied the man enough to know that he was no physical match for the warrior. When his hands were slowly released, the Vulcan rolled onto his back and blinked up at the exotic man who was leaning over him.

"Vadi," Spock said, trying to keep the strain out of his tone. "My apologies. You startled me."

Giving the Vulcan a rueful smile, the Preator reached out and stroked a fingertip over his cheek. "Obviously," he replied dryly. He leaned in and gently kissed Spock's cheek. "I'm sorry that I have interrupted you. Were you meditating?"

Nodding, Spock licked his lips and effortlessly slid the barriers that would hold his emotions from the man into place. "Yes," he replied simply, fighting the urge to reach up and rub at the now sore muscles of his shoulders. "How was your day?"

Laying on his side, the Preator braced his head on one hand as he reached out with his free arm and gently rubbed the abused joint that was closest to him. "It was productive. We should be able to leave in the next three days," he replied absently, his golden eyes shuttered as he stared intently at the strong yet lean muscles of his slave.

Forcing his body to relax, the Vulcan stared at the ceiling and tried to think about nothing. 'Jim, don't do anything stupid,' he thought wearily as the Romulan moved to his other shoulder. He nodded at the strong man as the Preator pushed himself up and off of the bed, stripping off his uniform coat and draping it on the back of one of the chairs. Knowing the rash human, though, he was sure that even now, Kirk was probably going to the bridge to concoct some absurd scheme to transport him away from the Romulan compound.

If they were going to transport him, though, Spock absently hoped that they do it in the next half an hour or not at all. It would be rather embarrassing for him to materialize in the transporter room engaged in a compromising position with his Vadi. He pushed himself off of the bed and walked over to the door, wondering if they could even be able to distinguish him between the two of them if they transported him.

He allowed himself a small bit of almost panicked amusement at the image of the enraged, nude Romulan appearing on the Enterprise as he let the servers that were bringing his Master's evening meal into the Preator's private quarters with a bland, blank expression fixed on his beautiful face. The Doctor's reaction alone would provide him with days of ceaseless amusement.

When the servers had left, Spock gracefully served the Preator as the man leaned back in the straight backed chair and studied him. He rose an eyebrow at the golden eyed man when he'd finished, silently inquiring if there was anything more that he could do.

"Thank you, Shiavo. Please, sit," the man requested, motioning towards the chair that was across from him. "You may eat as well."

Spock nodded and took the seat across from the large man, spooning the vegetables that hadn't been cooked with the meat onto his plate. He slowly ate, keeping his eyes on his plate. As the silence stretched on, he felt himself relax. If his master hadn't asked about Kirk before now, he was fairly certain that the man wouldn't bring the subject up.

He glanced up once, the bite that he'd been bringing to his mouth hanging in midair for a second as he saw the Romulan's golden eyes. They were molten, the deep, rich colour making the breath catch silently in Spock's throat. The intensity of his Vadi's gaze brought an involuntary flush to his cheeks before he dropped his eyes back to his plate and started to eat faster.

It was going to be a long night.

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Thank you for all of the reviews! It's really awesome to know that so many people really like this version of Star Trek 2009. Especially all of my repeat reviewers. You know who you are. lol

I'd like to give a special thanks to my Beta, Kami for all of the wonderful support she's given me. :) You rock!

Read, review, and let me know how or if you like this part! Sorry about the short chapter. I figured it would be better to give you a short chapter now than a huge chapter in another 2 weeks.

Thanks again!

Lee


	16. Chapter 16

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: I own nothing… don't sue.

Pairings: K/S are the main pair, some hints of others. More than a hint in some cases.

Warning: This chapter is the return of Spock to the Enterprise. This is a GIGANTIC chapter. So settle in with a warm drink, a snack, and some free time. Flame at your own risk.

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The conference room was awash with a beautiful, ethereal glow as the late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the windows. Surrounding a circular conference table, the delegates from Starfleet and the Romulan Empire were seated on opposite sides, the shape of the table doing nothing to unite the two groups.

The Romulans were uniform in their dress, the green of their uniforms adding to the subtle tone of the green blood that flowed through their veins just under the skin. The only person that lacked uniformity in their group was their leader. The Preator's black clothing was stark against the all green background, his golden eyes slightly hooded as he watched the group of Federation men across from him.

Kirk stared back at the Romulans, knowing that the large man seated so casually across from him had taken his bondmate and First Officer as a slave. He lowered his eyes, knowing that he wouldn't be able to hide the disgust and anger that burned in their brilliant blue depths every time he thought of Spock being held by that man.

Under the table, McCoy gently nudged the Captain with his knee. When Kirk looked up at his old friend, the Doctor raised a single eyebrow in question. When Kirk's eyes flicked towards the Romulan, McCoy sighed softly enough that only the Captain could hear him.

"There's only one item left that I would like to discuss before we conclude this part of the negotiations," Ambassador Spock's rich, melodious tones effortlessly called the attention of all of the delegates towards himself.

The Romulan diplomat's black eyes focused in on the Vulcan man as he smiled slightly. "Of course, Ambassador," he said, shifting slightly in his seat. They were going on their twelfth hour of discussion and everyone was eager to end this and surrender the finished treaty to both of their governments for them to ratify.  
Taking a deep breath, Spock steepled his hands on the table, as the only outward sign of his nerves. He was about to breach a very sensitive subject, especially with what he knew about the state of the Preator's private life.

"During the past ten years, there has been an upswing in the number of Vulcan ships being captured on the outskirts of the Federation space. Despite the best efforts of the Vulcan government, there have been a number of our citizens that we have been unable to track down beyond your boarders. I'm afraid that they have been mistaken as slaves and sold to Romulan households," he intoned, internally thanking the centuries of practice he'd to perfect his control.

The Preator's golden eyes locked onto Spock with an almost predatory gleam in their golden depths.

"The Vulcan government would, of course, be willing to compensate you handsomely for your aid in returning any of our citizens," he continued, sliding a data PADD with the names of all of the missing Vulcans, their ages, and their descriptions at the time of their abduction across the table towards the other delegation. At the top of the list was his younger self, complete with a holo-image taken just after he'd been made First Officer of the Enterprise.

"That is a very unfortunate Ambassador. Of course we will be happy to assist in returning those unfortunate ones to their rightful home. That is if we are going to find any Vulcans in Romulan households." the diplomat replied, glancing furtively at the leader of their military. "I must contact my government. You see, we do not regulate the slave trade and as such we were not aware of Vulcan citizens being sold on our planet. We only become involved when there is a dispute between owners and the takeover of the property rights."

Nodding, Spock allowed his steepled hands to collapse until they rested on the surface of the table with the fingers interlocked. "It would go along the way towards building a peaceful, mutually beneficial relationship between our two nations," he replied, inclining his head gracefully in the direction of the opposing faction.

"I believe this concludes our session for the day," the Romulan said, giving the other delegates a slightly strained smile and standing.

When Ambassador Spock stood, he glanced at the Preator, momentarily caught by the man's unusual golden gaze. In a race of nearly all dark hair and eyes, their colour made him stand out almost as much as the force of will that seemed to emanate from them.

Spock tore his gaze away, nodding at the Romulan Ambassador that was moving around the table to escort them to the transporter room. He felt a small chill creep up his back as he was led from the room. There was something about the man that had been sitting mostly silent through the entirety of their negotiations that made him fear for his younger self.

*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*

The Preator's golden eyes roamed over his slave's beautiful, serene features. The pale light that came from the large windows was barely bright enough to let the Romulan's powerful night vision take in the Vulcan's features. Gently, he stroked a fingertip over the side of Spock's cheek, smiling when the man automatically leaned into the caress.

He caught only hints of the Vulcan's emotions even in sleep. His slave's mental shields were thicker than any that he'd ever encountered before. The challenge had infinitely added to the man's allure. It was only in the exhausted, sated sleep that the Preator had worked him into that Spock's shields thinned slightly. The small shades of emotions that leaked through were the Romulan's only glimpse into his slave's mind.

A satisfied smirk quirked one corner of his full lips as the complete contentment from their recent coupling radiated foremost in the man's thoughts. The emotion was like warmth rising from his sub consciousness. Stroking his finger on the man's face again, he smiled at the soft, half moan that emerged from Spock's lips.

During the daylight hours, his slave was distant and cold. The Vulcan was aloof, showing the respect of a slave to a master but nothing else. It was only at night that the Vulcan's cool demeanour was stripped from him along with his clothing.

Some days, it took the Preator hours to break through the Vulcan's control to reach the passion that he knew was waiting for him beneath the surface. Tonight, Spock had been more reluctant than usual. It frustrated the Romulan that no matter how many times he proved to his slave that he was the Master, he still refused to submit totally to his domination.

The Preator's eyes closed as he gently pushed against the Vulcan's mind. He shook his head with a hint of chagrin as he was immediately shut out from the man's mind and Spock's face turned away from his touch. Withdrawing his mind's pressure, the Romulan slipped out of bed and walked nude across the room to the small table that sat next to the window.

He leaned against the wall, staring out at the grounds that surrounded the compound on this desolate little rock. Tilting his head, he looked up at the night sky, knowing that his slave's bondmate circled the planet from high above. He watched the stars, waiting for one to move across the sky quickly enough to be the Enterprise.

Reaching up, he rubbed the tattoos that marked his skin, feeling the subtle lines that had been painstakingly etched into his skin over the years that he'd served. When he'd seen his Shiavo's name on the list, he'd almost thrown the list back at the Federation delegates with a roar. The Vulcan was his property. He'd bought, paid for, and broken his slave!

Sighing, the Preator took a deep breath and pushed back the possessiveness that threatened to override his better judgement. Leaning his head back against the wall, the Romulan breathed the scent of the Vulcan that lingered in his rooms.

It would be prudent of him to sell the Vulcan back to his native government. It would remove any doubts from the minds of his subordinates that had witnessed his behaviour towards the Vulcan of where his loyalties laid. Due to the deaths of his guards, he knew that some of his political enemies were spreading rumours that he was being controlled by his new Vulcan pet.

Despite all of the whisperings behind his back, the Preator still couldn't bring himself to cast off his Shiavo as if he meant nothing. Spock had a rare, beautiful spirit that shone from him at everymoment in every day. It unnerved the Romulan slightly that he'd grown as attached to the Vulcan as he had in as short at time as they'd been together.

Taking one last look at the stars, he strode back over to the bed and crawled beneath the covers, careful not to wake his slave. The Vulcan shifted slightly as his Master wrapped his arms around his slim form, but settled back into a deep slumber quickly.

Breathing deeply, the Romulan took in the slave's scent mixed with the lingering remnants of their lovemaking. Closing his eyes, he nuzzled the Vulcan's neck and was rewarded with a soft groan as the man tilted his head to give the Preator better access.

"How am I ever going to give you up, Spock?" he asked softly into the man's delicately pointed ear.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

"Sir?" Chekov asked, his features pinched with worry as he turned back to look at the Captain. Kirk had been more than a little sharp since he'd returned to the ship and ordered them to set a course back to their zone.

"You heard me, Ensign. Set a course for the Federation space, warp four," the blue eyed man growled, his fingers tapping on the arm of his chair. He stared at the view screen, watching the planet below them turn so slowly that it was imperceptible to the naked eye. He'd felt Spock leave earlier that morning and knew that the Vulcan was now on a ship headed for the heart of the Romulan territory.

He'd wanted to go in last night and rescue Spock from the Preator, but a sharp warning from the Ambassador and a well placed hypospray from his former friend, Dr. McCoy, had put him out until after the Vulcan was gone. Even then, he'd tried to go after them, but the doctor had refused to let him out of sickbay until there was nothing he could do.

When he'd been released, he'd left without a word. He'd ignored the Doctor as he'd tried to get him to come back, slapping the panel that would hail the lift hard enough to almost crack the durable material.

After changing into a fresh uniform, he'd headed to the bridge and had issued the order to head back to the Federation space. Once he got his ship and crew to safety, he was going to come back for Spock and nothing was going to stop him.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

Spock slipped silently into his Master's room and padded in the soft soled slippers that the Romulan had given him ever since he'd noticed that the Vulcan was unusually sensitive to the cold that seeped through the decking no matter how high the air temperature was.

He sank to his knees in the middle of the room, waiting for the Romulan to look up from the workstation where he was scanning something on the small screen, his golden eyes intent on his work. Meticulously, the Vulcan adjusted his garments until they sat right, tugging on the sleeveless black tunic that gave a startling backdrop to his silver collar and visible bands.

When the Romulan looked back at him, Spock immediately lowered his eyes and bowed his head into a submissive posture.

"Vadi," he greeted, resting his palms on his knees. He watched through his lashes as the man logged out of his console and turned his chair so that it faced the Vulcan.

"Shiavo," the man greeted him, the warmth that permeated the man's voice sending a jolt of heat through Spock's blood.

Shaking off the disconcerting hormonal reaction, the Vulcan kept his body still even though the cold of the decking was becoming slightly uncomfortable. "You called for me?" he asked, tilting his head just slightly.

"There will be a group of people coming on board this afternoon. They are going to be held in the cargo area of the ship. I would like you to confirm for me, as they come on board, that they are Vulcan. Once they have been identified, they are going to be returned to the Vulcan government," he said, his tone going more businesslike.

Surprise flickered over Spock's face seconds before he regained control of his emotions. "If I may, Vadi, why?" he asked softly, knowing that the question was out of bounds for a slave.

Raising an eyebrow, the Romulan leaned back in his chair. "Shaivo, come here," he said softly, resting his hands on his knees.

Taking a deep breath to hide his frustration and apprehension, Spock gracefully rose to his feet and padded over to his Romulan Master.

When he stopped in front of the man, Spock started to lower to his knees again, but the Preator pulled him forward instead and settled him until his slightly shorter form was draped across his lap. Gently, Spock was arranged until his head was tucked against the Preator's shoulder and his left side was cradled by the man's strong, warm body.

"You look well today, Shiavo," the man whispered into his hair as his fingers began to stroke up and down Spock's back.

Licking his lips, Spock rested his hand on the slightly scratchy fabric of the man's uniform. "I would like to express my gratitude for the slippers, Vadi. Their warmth is welcome," he replied, knowing that it was what the man wanted to hear. It galled him slightly, but he was indeed grateful that he no longer had to roam the confines of the quarters with bare feet.

When the Romulan tilted his head up, Spock only hesitated slightly before he surrendered. The man's lips slowly moved over his, the familiar warmth and texture making the Vulcan's heart involuntarily skip a beat. Slowly, he felt his resistance weaken as the man's hands and mouth moved over him.  
Just as he was turning to press more of his body against the virile Romulan, Spock heard a soft chime ring through the room.

Cursing, the Preator gently pulled away from Spock so that he could press the com link that was attached to his console to activate an audio only transmission. "Yes?" he demanded curtly, as his hands slid gently up and down Spock's back bone.

There was a second of hesitation over the comlink before the Romulan Sub Commander replied. "Sir, the first of the slaves have arrived. They await your inspection in the cargo bay two."

With a soft, inaudible sigh, the Romulan looked at the Vulcan in his lap and drug his thumb over the man's soft, smooth lips. "I'll be there momentarily," he replied, shutting the link. "My apologies, Shiavo, I thought we'd have a few moments to ourselves."

Spock slipped off of the man's lap and took a step back, bowing his head and trying to reign in the need that the man had inflamed in his body. He clasped his hands in front of him, more to hide the evidence of his body's reaction to the Romulan than from any desire to appear submissive.

With a hint of annoyance making his movements sharp, the Romulan stood and gestured towards the door. "Shall we?" he asked.

Inclining his head, the Vulcan followed his Master out of the room and through the corridors. He kept his eyes downcast, ignoring the curious, occasionally hungry glances of the passing crew. Everyone knew about the Preator's new slave, the one for whom he had been willing to kill in order to protect him.

When they reached the bay, Spock breathed a silent sigh of relief. Being the center of attention every time he entered a room or the corridors was becoming something that he dreaded. It had only gotten worse after the diplomatic conference with the Federation.

Glancing up through his eyelashes, the Vulcan stared at the group of fifteen people staring down at the decking with expressionless faces. Their clothing ranged from nothing more than a loin cloth for one man to a rich silken tunic and leggings for one of the women. The only thing that provided any sense of uniformity between them, though, were the silver bands that encircled their arms and legs.

"Preator," a junior officer greeted the tall man smartly as he entered the cargo bay. He saluted the ranking officer with a fist to his chest and a bow at the waist.

The Romulan nodded towards the man, glancing at his eager young face before he turned his attention back towards the slaves that were standing in a line. "Shiavo, you are to verify for me that they are all indeed Vulcan," he commanded, all but ignoring the eager officer that was practically salivating over his rank.

Spock stepped forward towards the line of slaves. He quickly turned to the left and made his way down the line. As swiftly as he could, he reached up and brushed his hand over one side of the man's face, catching the hint of a Vulcan mental signature.

"Vulcan," he said softly, stepping in front of the second slave and repeating the process.

After confirming that the seven men and eight women were indeed all Vulcan, Spock stepped back to stand next to his Romulan master. Glancing up, he saw one particular woman staring at him with what he would have considered hatred had it not come from a Vulcan.

"Thank you, Shiavo," the Romulan said, slipping an arm around Spock's waist and gently tugging him closer.

Nodding, the Vulcan kept his hands clasped in front of him, staring at the decking to avoid looking at the faces of the people that he'd identified. He ignored the illogical need to explain his actions and inform them of their imminent release. They, unlike himself, would be free soon.

The bands around his limbs seemed to burn slightly, their weight a vivid reminder of his status as a slave in the face of their good fortune.

"Keep them here and provide them with nourishment and proper clothing. We should be rendezvousing with the Starfleet vessel in about a day," the Preator ordered, turning towards the door. He walked out of the cargo bay, ignoring the stares of the Vulcans.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

Kirk scowled down at the roster in his hand, pointedly ignoring the disgruntled doctor who was standing behind him with a scowl etched on his rugged face. He thumbed through the PADD before he scrawled a signature at the bottom and handed it to the Yeoman who was on duty without even looking at the attractive blonde.

He only wanted to look at one person in the entire universe, and unfortunately for his crew, Spock had left with his Romulan captor.

The blonde took it reluctantly and backed slowly away from the irritable man, not liking the way his fingers were tapping on the armrest of the chair.

Nyota shook her head and stared down at the board of lights that she'd been willing into a distress signal from Spock for months now. She realized the first time she'd overheard the Captain talk to the elder Spock that the man she'd fallen in love with was no longer in love with her. A mating bond, something she'd researched while learning the language, was something akin to a marriage ceremony. It was like a merging of two souls.

Knowing how honourable Spock was, he would never dishonour the bond that he'd accidentally formed by continuing their relationship. Even with the knowledge that she wasn't going to be able to continue with him, she still waited anxiously for any word of him. No one deserved such fate as slavery.

Uhura started to sigh, but the exhale was cut short as she caught the beginnings of an incoming transmission. She blinked as she translated the code. Her posture straightened as she turned towards the command chair. "Captain Kirk! I've got an incoming subspace transmission from Starfleet. Admiral Pike orders us to return to the Romulan border," she relayed, still translating the codes.

Before Bones could blink, Kirk was out of his chair and across the bridge. He leaned over Uhura's shoulder and tried to read what she was translating. "What does it say?" he asked eagerly.

With a look, she made the man step back away from her. "It says that the Romulans have agreed to the terms of the treaty. We're to go to these coordinates to receive the Vulcan's that have been returned back to the Federation. Starbase 12 has the dilithium that we're to use to "compensate" Romulans for their help in arranging this." she translated.

"Does it say anything about Spock?" he asked, silently willing for there to be more to the message.  
With a sad look in her large, dark eyes, the communications officer shook her head. "It doesn't list specific names, Captain, just the coordinates," she replied.

Pursing his lips in frustration, the Captain turned back to the command chair that was sitting in the middle of the bridge. "Sulu, set course for the Starbase 12, maximum warp," he said, flopping back down into the soft cushions of his chair.

"Aye, Sir," the helmsman replied, his fingers slightly stiff as they danced over the controls. It had taken weeks of physical therapy to get him back up to snuff for a full duty shift, but the Asian man was finally cleared for full duty. He glanced over at Chekov and sighed when he saw the seventeen year old staring at him with a mixture of concern and pity.

When he turned to stare at the boy fully, the Russian's cheeks reddened and he looked back to his console. Shaking his head, the Asian man leaned back in his chair slightly, glad that he'd chosen to become a pilot and not a security officer like his mother and his father had wanted him to. Having to stand all day would have killed his still healing body.

After an hour of catching the boy looking at him out of the corner of his eye, he turned his chair to face the young man and rested his hands on his knees so that he wouldn't strangle the teenager.

"What?" he demanded, his carefully modulated voice not carrying over the beeps, whistles, and normal sounds of the bridge.

Chekov's face flushed as he glanced over at his partner. "Nothing," he replied, his accent thick on the word.

"It's obviously something since you keep staring at me like I'm going to spontaneously combust. Do you have a bag of marshmallows that you'd like to roast?" he growled, leaning forwards slightly.

The Russian's eyes widened, but he didn't back away as the Asian man leaned into his personal space. "No! It's just," he started, cutting himself off and looking down at his hands.

"It's just...?" the Asian man asked, his hands clenching slightly as his already frayed temper flared.

Licking his lips, the teenager glanced over at Sulu. "You need tea," Chekov blurted.

Hikaru raised an eyebrow and stared at the young Russian. "Tea?" he asked, his voice calm and flat.

"Da," the boy replied, shifting uncomfortably under the Asian's direct gaze. "Tea. My mother used to brew me a pot of tea using her own mix whenever I hurt myself playing Parisi Squares. It really helped to ease the stiffness."

"Tea," Sulu said again, a little more thoughtfully.

Looking down, Pavel bit his lip before he continued. "She made sure I had enough to last me an entire lifetime before I left, so... I mean, I know you're still sore," he stumbled, blushing almost purple in his embarrassment.

Blinking at the Russian, Sulu sat back in his chair, wincing slightly as his body protested the sudden movement. He reached up and unconsciously circled his arm around his waist, feeling the aches and pains of his body clearly. "Thank you," he replied softly, regretting the sharp tone he'd taken with the obviously shy younger officer. "I'd really appreciate it."

A smile lit up the young ensign's face that took Sulu by surprise. It was so full of innocence and warmth that his mind cringed back from it slightly. He gave the man a small half smile in return, knowing that it wasn't even half as bright. He'd never have that innocence again. His short stint in the whore houses that had passed him around had cured him of any lingering misconception about people's good natures.

"I'll bring it by your quarters after this shift then. It's best if you drink it before you go to bed. My mother really knows how to mix some tea," he said with a grin before he turned his attention back to his console.

Sulu turned his chair back towards his work, forcing himself to lean forwards and start on the reports that he hadn't gotten a chance to file. It would be three hours until they reached Starbase 12, so he wouldn't have anything to do except finish these things off.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

Kirk tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair. They were holding the position at the edge of Federation space, awaiting the hail that would let them know the Romulans were on their way. Dilithium filled their hold, waiting to be transported over to the other ships in return for the lives of the Vulcans that had been held as slaves. He crossed his fingers, hoping that his First Officer was going to be among those returning to their former lives.

He was staring so hard at the view screen that at first he didn't notice the warmth that was growing behind his eyes. When the communication panel started a series of beeps, he blinked. A fire lit in his blue eyes as he realized that the warmth he felt was from his bond with his Vulcan First Officer. Spock was close and getting closer.

"Sir, we're receiving a hail from the Romulans," Uhura's voice broke through the sounds of the bridge  
like a hot knife through butter.

"On screen," he replied, leaning forward in his chair slightly.

The image of a Romulan replaced the dull, usual vista of stars on the screen. His face was flat, the tattoos that graced his plain features not nearly as elaborate as those that Kirk had seen on the Preator and the delegates that he'd sat across from during the conference.

"Starfleet vessel, this is Captain Tolomy of the Romulan War Bird Sha'vek. If you could transmit the coordinates for transport, we will begin the transfer of Vulcans to your ship once we have received the dilithium," the man stated baldly, his tone brisk and business-like.

"Captain Tolomy, this is Captain Kirk of the Enterprise. We're sending over the coordinates now. If you are going to send us the location of your holds, we'll begin beaming the dilithium," Kirk replied, his eyes bright with excitement.

With a slightly sour look on his face, the Commander motioned off screen before he turned back to face the human man and his crew. "Captain Kirk, I have also been instructed to invite you and your senior staff to a dinner in honour of our recent peace accord," he said, his flat voice barely masking the irritation that Kirk could see burning in the depths of his eyes.

"I would be delighted to accept your invitation, Captain," he replied, smiling and leaning casually back in his chair. "What time?"

Making a visible effort to keep his voice cordial, the Romulan's jaw worked for a few seconds. "We dine at 0830 hours" he replied.

Grinning at the irritable man, Kirk ignored the warning look that McCoy was shooting him. "We will be delighted," he replied, nodding. "0830 hours it is then, Captain."

Without even a word of leave taking, the Romulan cut the communication.

"Jim, are you sure this is a good idea?" Bones asked, motioning towards the view screen and stepping closer to the Captain.

Kirk looked up at the man and grinned broadly. "Spock's on that ship," he replied, pushing himself out of his chair.

A look of utter disbelief rolled over McCoy's face before Kirk slapped his shoulder and walked towards the lift. "I'm going down to the transporter room to see our new guests. Mr. Sulu, you have the bridge."

"Aye, Sir," the helmsman replied, keeping his eyes down to hide the smile that was threatening to spill, as the chief medical officer made a choking sound before chasing the Captain to the lift.

*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

Spock lay on the bed, his heart pounding as he struggled to catch his breath. His arms were wrapped around the Preator's shoulders as the man's breath feathered along his neck. Gently, he ran his fingertips up to the faint hint of stubble on the Romulan's head down to the silky smooth skin of his Master's shoulders.

The Vulcan shivered as the man nipped at his earlobe. "Shiavo," the Romulan sighed softly before he rolled to his side and took the slim former Federation officer with him.

Still panting softly, Spock let his forehead drop on the Preator's collarbone. "Vadi," he replied, arranging his lethargic limbs so that he could use his Master's right arm as a pillow and his right leg was draped over the Romulan's slim hips. It was one of the man's favourite positions to cuddle in, and it was quickly becoming one of Spock's as well.

"Mmmm, while I wish that I could stay and enjoy your company, we have to shower and dress," the Romulan whispered, leaning forward to gently kiss Spock's slanted eyebrows.

"Both of us?" the Vulcan asked, pulling his head back so that he could focus on the man's face better.

He blinked at the sudden shift of the emotions radiating from his Master. The contentment that he'd been feeling had shifted to what Spock would consider almost anguish if it were coming from anyone except his Romulan Master.

The Preator gave a short burst of slightly strained laughter as he stroked his free hand down the muscles of Spock's back. "Yes, Shaivo, both of us. It's a very special dinner," he replied, as the arms that had been loosely wrapped around the Vulcan became suddenly tight and possessive.

Spock's eyebrow rose inquiringly, but the Romulan just gave him a small smile before giving him one last, lingering kiss. "Come, Shiavo, we have to hurry," he whispered, his golden eyes now flat and slightly angry.

Detangling himself from his Romulan Master, Spock headed for the shower that was attached to the room where his Vadi was staying. He shivered slightly and curled his toes as the cold decking sent chills up through his feet. As goose bumps rose over his skin, he adjusted the temperature of the water until a hint of steam curled up from it.

Just as he stepped into the warm spray, he felt his Master's firm, strong chest press against his back. As the man forced him farther into the shower, he felt the Romulan's lips trail over his delicate earlobes. Spock tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes as the Preator's full lips spread warmth down his body.

Turning, Spock rested his hands against the Romulan's chest, stepping back as far as the small confines of the shower would allow. He tilted his head up at the man whose body was almost as familiar to him as his own now. The emotions that were ripping through his Master were almost desperate.

His eyebrow rose slightly as the Preator's hands started to skim up his sides. "Vadi," he said softly, keeping a distance between the two of them even as the Romulan tried to pull him closer. "I do not wish for you to be late for your meal."

A possessive light gleamed in the tattooed man's eyes as he leaned forwards, pressing Spock back until the Vulcan's arms were forced to bend. "Never forget, Shiavo, that you will always be mine," he whispered, his lips brushing Spock's.

"Never, Vadi," Spock replied, swallowing nervously at the emotions that were seeping from his Master. He'd never seen the Romulan so angry and determined. Feeling the man's ire rise, Spock leaned forwards and pressed his lips against his Master's in a questioning gesture that immediately soothed the Romulan's anger.

It was almost getting disturbing how easily he could now read the Preator's emotions. It was nowhere near the closeness that he shared with Jim, but the Romulan had been slowly wearing at his mental shields for months now. A bond similar to that shared by most family members was forming. It was making it harder and harder to keep the invading Romulan's mind out of his own.

The insistent push of the man's mind only intensified when Preator's body pressed against his own. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Spock let his body relax forwards. His hands flattened on the man's chest and he let his appreciation for the man's natural beauty slip through his shields.

"Vadi, there is no way for me to forget that I belong to you," he replied, pulling back slightly and shaking back his ebony hair. He managed to lean back enough that his collar shone brighter in the soft light from the shower. He rested his hand above the brand that would forever mark his skin. "I have been marked since the day you bought me."

The Romulan's eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against Spock's. "No matter what happens, Shiavo, remember that I keep what's mine. I will always come for you," he whispered softly, stroking his hand over the smooth skin running from Spock's ribs to his hips.

Swallowing back the hint of despair that the Romulan's words brought on, Spock nodded. He let his last, faint hope of being released back to the Federation with the other Vulcan slaves go. It wasn't in the Preator's nature to give up what was his, and despite how hard Spock wished it different, he was considered the man's property under the Romulan law.

A small bit of tension eased out of the man's shoulders and he gently kissed Spock's lips. "Let's wash quickly," he sighed, grabbing the soap from the small holder next to the shower controls. His movements were typical of the Romulan's behaviour, efficient and through.

In no time at all, they were both clean and were drying off with the towels that had been tucked safely away in the locker near the Preator's bed. Spock reached for the plain, unobtrusive grey tunic and trousers that he'd planned on wearing. Their colour blended with many of the walls and helped him to feel less like he was on display than any of the other garments that his Master had provided. Now that he was going to be staying with the Romulan for what he assumed was the rest of his life, he wanted to make things as easy as possible for the both of them.

No matter how much it illogically made his heart hurt.

"Shiavo, would you wear the black tunic with the silver embroidery? The silk one?" the Preator asked, as he briskly towelled himself and reached for a clean uniform.

"As you wish, Vadi," the Vulcan replied quietly, setting his tunic down and reaching into the depths of the locker where his clothing was being kept for the garments that he'd avoided wearing.

Even as quickly as he managed to dress, the Romulan still led the Vulcan from his rooms almost ten minutes after the dinner was supposed to have started. They made their way swiftly through the corridors to the Preator's private dining room. Before the doors opened, though, the Preator stepped in front of Spock, giving the Vulcan nothing but the back of his uniform to see when he opened the doors.

Spock kept his head down as his eyes on the decking as the door opened, the quiet chatter that had been issuing from the room stopping suddenly as the Preator stepped in. Feeling eminently self-conscious, Spock followed the man in, his silky, sleeveless garments making no noise.

"Spock," he heard a very familiar voice whisper, the pain lacing that voice echoing the pain and anger that he felt through the bond that he'd been ignoring for the past few hours. His head snapped up, his gaze unerringly going to where James Tiberius Kirk have half risen from his chair at the end of the table.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

Kirk stared down at the empty plate in front of him and sighed wistfully as his stomach growled. The least they could do was to give him some crackers or something to tide him over while they waited for the Commander of the Romulan Empire's army to show up.

He'd ignored the stirrings of passion that had burned through his bond with Spock, explaining why the man was late and putting the normally jovial commander of the Enterprise into a rather foul mood. McCoy had stared at him when he'd almost literally growled at one of the Romulans that had tried to talk to him.

This was ridiculous. If they weren't even going to have the decency to show up, then he was going back to his ship. He took a deep breath, catching Scotty's attention. The man stopped looking around at every detail of the ship that he could see and stared at his Captain, knowing that Kirk was going to do something to stir things up a bit.

Mr. Scott had always had a nose for when the Captain was ready to make it a little more fun.

Just as Kirk was about to shove his chair back and head for the transporter room, the doors to the dining hall opened and the Preator himself filled the space. All conversation stopped as the imposing man stood in the door for a few seconds before stepping forwards.

Pursing his lips, Kirk started to rise, ready to tell the man off. He felt McCoy's hand on his sleeve and glanced over at this old friend for a second before he looked back to where the Preator had been standing. Instead of the imposing Romulan, however, Kirk's eyes were drawn to the Vulcan that had been hiding behind the man.

The air was sucked out of his lungs as a wave of almost instant lust washed over him followed by an intense anger. He had been trying to ignore Spock's bond so hard that he hadn't even noticed when the Vulcan was getting closer. And a part of Kirk definitely wanted that pointy eared man to get a lot closer.

The garment the Vulcan was wearing was itself elegant in its simplicity. It was a single hip length sleeveless tunic belted with a plain black leather belt over black harem pants. The tunic had silver embroidery that matched the metal adorning the rest of his body around the bottom hem and the neckline. The material subtly caught the light, drawing attention to the slim yet muscular figure somewhat hidden beneath the fabric. As Spock took a step forwards, Jim couldn't help but look down at his long, perfect legs and felt a sharp pain in the area of his heart when he realized that the fabric was sheer enough that Kirk could see the bands that circled the Vulcan's thighs and calves.

The bands were about five centimetres wide, the metal that was around his arms seemingly without a break. The only thing that marred the perfect surface was a symbol delicately tooled onto its surface. His eyes were drawn upwards from their perusal of the Vuclan's body, however, when an emerald light caught his attention. Anger ripped through him again as he noticed the collar that circled his bondmate's neck.

"Spock," he whispered, unable to keep himself from speaking despite the restraining hand that McCoy was trying to lay on his arm.

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When he saw the horror and pity that was written on the faces of the present humans, the Romulan's temper flared. No one had the right to look at his Shiavo in such manner! He slipped his hand over the Vulcan's lower back, the man's shock making it easier to read the shame and despair that was washing through his slave.

The Preator's arm slipped around his waist as they faced the men in the room, offering silent support to his slave. His face was impassive as he led the way to the head of the table where his seat had remained empty. There were two seats that were empty as per his request. Unfortunately for the junior officer that had been bold enough to try to claim the place that had been set aside for one of the senior staff that the Preator had displaced by having his Shiavo with him at dinner. The Romulan officer had not been pleased to be over-ruled by a slave.

"Move," he stated; his golden eyes bearing into the man's face. "That is a place of honour and belongs to my Shiavo." He didn't look over at Spock when the Vulcan tensed slightly next to him.  
Without a word of protest, the young Romulan quickly capitulated. He shifted over the seat, taking his dinner and drink with him. At another look from the golden eyed man, he reset his recently vacated seat for the Vulcan slave.

Taking a strange sense of comfort from the man's possessive nature, Spock allowed the Romulan to pull out his chair and sat. He folded his hands in his lap and closed his mind so that he didn't have to feel the emotions that were pouring out of his bondmate.

The Romulan settled himself into his chair before he reached out and took possession of Spock's hand. Glancing at the Preator from the corner of his eye, Spock stopped just as he was about to pull his hand free. The man's face was completely relaxed except for tightness around his eyes and the sense of anger that was radiating from his mind, pushing against Spock's mental barriers. He lowered his eyes to the delicate china of the plate in front of him, uncomfortably aware of how his former comrades were staring at him.

'Why, Vadi, have you done this to me?' he thought, struggling to maintain control over his emotions.

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Golden eyes stared around the room that was blanketed with a tense silence. The Romulan slid his thumb over the pulse in his Shiavo's wrist, feeling the Vulcan's heart pounding. He noticed the way the human man's face was turning slowly redder and redder. He stifled the urge to take his slave and leave the room, knowing that his actions were necessary for the good of the government that he'd spent his entire adult life serving.

"Thank you all for coming. I apologize for my late arrival," he began, his golden eyes staring into the angry human's blue orbs. "I've never been one for long speeches, so I'll get to the point. I believe that you all know the man to my left. His name is Spock and he has been my slave for only a few months now. After tonight's meal, he will be returned with all of the other Vulcan slaves."

The Preator ignored how Captain Tolomy and his First Officer stared at him. The junior officer that his Shiavo had displaced openly gaped at the Romulan Commander. His possessive nature and the deaths of the guards under his command had become common knowledge among the crew. For him to suddenly give up something as personal as a bed slave was extremely unusual.  
The Preator stared into the face of a man that he'd deemed his enemy as he ignored his Romulan subordinates. There was no doubt in his mind that if it weren't for this one human, he and his Shiavo would even now be dining in his private quarters. His bed and thoughts would be cold and empty tonight because of James Kirk. Without even trying, the man had placed him in a difficult position during a very sensitive political time for him.

"Vadi," Spock said softly, drawing his attention away from the human to the Vulcan that he'd come to care for deeply during their time together.

Turning to look at his slave, the Romulan gently cupped the side of Spock's face in his hand. "I'm giving him up in the hopes that this will bring us closer towards a lasting peace," he said, running his thumb over the Vulcan's soft lips before he turned to look at the men surrounding him. In a rare moment of weakness, the Romulan smiled softly at his slave. "He is an honourable, intelligent, and talented man that would be an asset to any ship that he serves on."

He saw the Vulcan's control slipping slightly, and rather than see his Shiavo embarrassed in front of the people that he would have to see for the rest of his journey, the Romulan let his hand away from the man's soft skin and turned back to face the assembled men. "Now, if you could all join me in a toast?" he asked, raising the glass of Romulan ale off the table. "To peace!"

When everyone had drunk at least a small sip of the rather strong liquor, he snapped his fingers and the stewards that had been waiting in the hall trooped in with platters to start the feast that would end his time with his Vulcan Shiavo.

Glancing up, he saw Kirk staring at the Vulcan sitting next to him with a barely masked hunger in his eyes. Watching the human out of the corner of his eye, the Preator reached up and gently brushed the hair away from Spock's face, tucking the errant strands behind the delicately pointed ears that had fascinated him for hours. His fingertips skimmed down the silky smooth skin just behind the shell, feeling an intense satisfaction at the delicate shiver of awareness that rippled through the man's body.

Despite the tense situation, the Romulan's patient training was making itself known. If he wanted to humiliate Spock, he could have the Vulcan moaning and withering in mere seconds. He captured the Vulcan's right hand, gently holding it as he finished off his meal, knowing that it wouldn't impede his left handed slave.

No matter how far away Spock ran from him, he'd always remember the time that they'd spent together. It was almost enough to know that a small piece of his Shiavo would always belong to him.

Almost.

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Spock's heart was pounding so hard that he was starting to fear for his health as he followed the Preator and his former crew to the transporter room that would send them back to the ship that he'd been forced off of what seemed like an eternity ago.

He was going home.

Silent in his soft soled slippers, he followed the Preator at a proper three paces back as his soon to be former Master herded his shipmates through the corridors. He didn't want to give the volatile Romulan any reason to rethink his offer, so he didn't even look up when they reached the small room that housed the transporter.

"Shiavo, come here," the Romulan said softly, slipping a hand up the Vulcan's arm and drawing him against the very familiar warmth of the man's chest. He leaned against the Preator, keeping his hands clasped in front of him so that he wouldn't be tempted to either shove the large man away or wrap his arms around the trim waist that he'd spent hours memorizing.

He couldn't for the life of him figure out which desire was stronger. His emotions were rolling through him, relief and a soft pain in his heart warring with each other. The intense satisfaction and worry from his bondmate weren't helping things at all as the human's feelings pushed against him. Automatically, Spock's mind blocked out all but the Preator's feelings; using the man's desire as a shield to block out his more volatile emotions.

When the man's hand slipped up his back, caressing Spock in a familiar, heated way, he forgot for a second that he was being watched by his fellow Starfleet crewmembers, his bondmate included. For just a moment, it was just the two of them. The Romulan's hand cupped the side of his jaw, tilting his face up just enough for their lips to meet while his other hand pulled Spock's lean figure flush with his own.

Though the kiss began as a very chaste goodbye, the heated emotions that Spock felt boiling through the Romulan invaded his mind, burning along the pathways that had been forged over the months of his captivity. His eyes fluttered shut as he surrendered himself to the strength and indomitable will of his Master.

'I'll never let you go, Shiavo. You're mine,' the man's voice whispered through his mind, causing Spock's eyes to flash open in shock. He hadn't realized that he'd dropped his mental shields until that second.

When he pulled back, he could feel the rage of his Captain flowing through their bond, eclipsing the desire that had been pulsing at him. With a sense of foreboding, Spock pulled himself away from the Romulan Commander and took a step back towards the humans that had served with him.

"Shiavo," the Romulan began, his golden eyes probing the Vulcan's own dark gaze. When he took a step forwards, Kirk stepped in front of his bondmate, forestalling the Preator's advance.

"His name is Spock," he said, his voice cold and unforgiving. When he started to reach out for the Vulcan, Spock automatically stepped away, remembering what his Vadi had done to the last man that had dared to lay a hand on him.

A wry smile twisted the Romulan's lips as he saw Spock's reaction. "Spock, then. If you permit me, I'll remove my mark of ownership from your neck," the Preator said, his golden eyes focusing on the collar that circled Spock's slender neck.

"Please," Spock replied, lifting his chin and ignoring Kirk's soft noise of denial. He stepped around the Captain and held still as the man reached behind his neck and slid his thumb over the scanner cleverly hidden in the seamless silver.

When the collar slid off in the Romulan's hands, Spock fought the urge to reach up and rub the skin that now felt cold and bare. He stepped away until he felt the humans at his back. His spine straightened as Kirk rested a hand on his lower back in what was clearly a proprietary gesture.

"If you don't mind, Preator, it's getting late," Kirk said, his relief washing through Spock like a soothing balm. The Vulcan felt his control threatened as the Romulan commander motioned the group towards the transporter pad.

"Of course," the man replied, his eyes never leaving Spock as the Vulcan got onto the pad and turned to face him. "Good bye, Spock."

The Vulcan met the man's eyes, seeing the hint of pain that turned the golden orbs hard and cold. He inclined his head towards the Romulan before he raised his hand in the traditional Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, Preator," he replied, staring into the golden orbs of the man that had been both his shield and his companion since this nightmare had begun.

'I'll never let you go...' The Romulan's words seemed to echo in his mind, cutting short the relief that he felt when the familiar walls of the Enterprise's transporter room appeared around him.

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The moment he was freed from the transporter beam, Kirk turned towards Spock. His hand moved over towards the Vulcan slowly, almost as if he was afraid that he'd disappear if he looked away.

When his fingertips touched the man's arm, the bond that stretched between them increased tenfold.

Shock ripped through him as he felt the loss and humiliation that was burning through the Vulcan's mind. When the black eyes turned to stare at him, Kirk let his fingers drop. A treacherous finger of doubt entered his mind as the transporter rooms doors opened and Uhura ran into the room, her movements fast with the spike of adrenaline that pushed through her system.

Jim watched as the Vulcan caught the Communications Officer seconds before she could throw her arms around him. The link between them dimmed as Spock closed off his mind from the Captain and kept his face completely stoical.

"Spock! Thank god you're back!" Uhura breathed, beaming up at the tall man. She held onto his hands, giving them a squeeze as she pulled him off of the transporter pad. "Are you hurt? Do you need to go to sickbay?"

"Yes, he does," McCoy popped up, motioning the Vulcan towards the door.

Stopping in his tracks, the pointy eared man shook his head. "I assure you, Doctor, that my health is intact," he replied, wanting nothing more than to go back to his quarters so that he could catch his breath.

"Standard procedure. Sickbay is going to be your first stop," McCoy replied, moving over to the still open portal and crossing his arms over his chest.

Shaking off his initial disbelief, Kirk stepped over to the pair and rested a hand on Spock's lower back. He tried not to feel hurt when the Vulcan stepped away from the touch, knowing that his First Officer was rather a private man. "Once you're done in sickbay, you can go to your quarters, but not before. Captain's orders," he gave the Vulcan his usual carefree smile, not caring that it didn't meet his eyes. "Come on, Spock. You're the one who's always quoting regs at me."

Signalling his assent with a nod of his head, the Vulcan followed McCoy out of the transporter bay. Scotty trailed after the group, reaching out and nudging the Captain with his elbow. He raised an eyebrow and nodded in the Vulcan's direction. Kirk shook his head and sighed softly, letting the engineer know that he had no idea what was going on.

Spock was home, but it wasn't the homecoming that Kirk had been envisioning for the nearly six months that his bondmate had been gone.

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Stepping into the once familiar quarters, Spock took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He felt Kirk's presence behind him, but couldn't bring himself to turn and face the man that he'd dreamed of for months now. That his bondmate had seen him in the Preator's care was humiliating and not something he was willing to face at the moment.

Illogical though it was, his pride was in tatters.

The door whooshed shut slightly as the human in question took a step into the room and stood at his side, a careful distance between them. The man's blue eyes silently regarded the room, allowing Spock the time and peace to gather his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," Kirk said softly, resting his hands on his hips in a Peter Pan pose that made Spock realize that the Captain was still a rather young man.

"For what are you apologising?" the Vulcan asked, his voice slipping into some resemblance of his normal arrogance.

Taking a deep breath, Kirk stared at the hanging on the wall. "I wasn't able to protect you when it really mattered," Kirk replied softly, his voice rich with a self loathing that Spock recognised very well.

Closing his eyes for a second, Spock clasped his hands behind his back, causing the metal bands around his wrists to clink softly. "There is no need to apologize. What's done is done. It is illogical to dwell on what you cannot change," he said, his voice low and melodious as he quoted something he'd told himself hundreds of times when he was first taken prisoner. "Was everyone else recovered as well?"

Nodding, Kirk crossed his arms over his chest. "You were the last to come home. Yeoman Travis died before we could get him back, but other than that.." he said softly, turning to face Spock.  
The Vulcan turned as well, staring into the deep blue eyes that he'd dreamed about every night for the first two months of his captivity. "Jim," he started, only to be cut off as the man's fingertips rested against his lips.

"Look, I know this is probably the worst time in the world to say this," he said, letting his fingertips linger over the Vulcan's lips. "I know that he's hurt you, but I'll be here for you if you need me. When you're ready, I'll be there. When we were first bonded, I didn't know what it meant. I was beyond stupid."

Spock watched in mutely as the human's eyes deepened to a rich blue that rivalled San Francisco's sky in the summer.

"I know what it means now. Even if it was an accident, it's a gift that I don't want to dishonour. I was blind, and I'm sorry for how I treated you. When you're ready to talk, I'm here for you. Even if I do have to stand on some naked piece of stone that's so hot you can fry eggs on it," he finished, leaning forward and pressing his lips to the corner of Spock's mouth in a chaste kiss.

The Vulcan was about to respond when Kirk turned and walked out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts and tangled emotions.

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Sulu shifted in his seat, glancing over at Chekov out of the corner of his eye. He licked his lips and started to speak, but let his breath out in sigh and turned back to his console. The Russian youth glanced over at him and tilted his head, waiting until he looked back to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Do you think that we could... I mean... After shift today would you be willing to have some tea with me?" Hikaru asked softly, shifting again.

After their first cup of tea, Sulu had laid down on his bed prepared for a night of restless pain again. He'd closed his eyes and sighed, waiting for the nightmares to start. The next thing that he'd known, his alarm was blaring at him that he needed to get up so that he could get ready for his shift.

It was the first peaceful, dreamless sleep he'd had since he'd been taken with Spock and the others and he'd treasured it.

The Russian's eyes widened slightly before he beamed over at the grumpy Asian man. "Of course! Did you want to meet in my quarters again?" he asked, his happiness at being able to help his comrade having an almost tangible quality to it.

Not being able to stop the smile that quirked the corners of his lips, the Asian man nodded back. "Sure. 1930 hours?" he asked, mentally calculating the time it would take him to go back to his quarters and change.

"Sure!" the young officer said with a smile, glancing down at his console when a light flashed before looking back up.

"Thanks, Chekov," Sulu replied, looking back to his own controls.

When his shift was over, Hikaru finished up his report and sent it to the Captain, knowing that the man would probably get to it either the next day or that night depending on how foul his mood was.

He'd been pensive all afternoon, ordering him to set a course back to Starbase 12 so that they could transfer the Vulcans that had beamed aboard to a different transport that would take them to their new home world.

He moved over to the lift, sighing as he pressed the button for the crew quarters. Chekov had gotten off duty an hour before him, and the promise of that wonderful tea kept him moving as he made his way to his room to change out of the uniform that he'd been sitting in all day.

Slipping into his room, he changed into a simple grey short sleeved shirt and a pair of black pants before he set out for the young Ensign's quarters with a little more spring in his step than usual. Weather it was the tea or the unassuming company, he had a feeling that he is going to feel better after seeing the young man. Chekov was like a breath of fresh air.

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McCoy sighed and set down the PADD that he'd been working on as Jim walked into his office. He watched as the man paced back and forth in front of his desk for a second before he stood himself and grabbed the decanter filled with Whiskey off of the rack that was supposed to hold specimen containers. Pulling two glasses out of his bottom desk drawer, he poured a finger in each glass before sliding one pointedly across the table towards the Captain.

"What can I do for you today, Jim?" he asked after a few minutes, rolling the glass gently between his elegant surgeon hands to warm the liquor slightly before he drank it to release the scent.

Flopping down in the chair, the Captain rubbed his hands over his face and ignored the drink that he would have gladly belted back a year prior. He sighed in frustration, keeping his hands up to hide his expression from one of his oldest and dearest friends.

"I don't know what else I can do, Bones! He isn't even sleeping! I'd know if he was sleeping, but he's not. He hasn't left his quarters even once since yesterday. Not even our bond is working right. He had closed it so tight it almost feels like I'm alone," Kirk growled, his voice coming perilously close to cracking.

Leaning back in his chair, McCoy stared at the man sitting across from him. He pursed his lips and took a sip of his drink, sucking in a breath as the potent beverage hit his empty stomach. When he was sure that he had the Captain's attention, he set the glass down on his desk with a click and leaned forwards slightly.

"Well, what did you expect?" he asked, waving his glass in the vague direction of the Vulcan's quarters. Shaking his head, the Doctor gave a gusty sigh. He never thought he'd find anyone higher strung than his ex wife, but the Captain was starting to come in a very close second. "Did you think he was going to fall all over you and spill his little green heart to you?"

Kirk paused in his pacing and looked back over at his friend and CMO. He stared for a few seconds before he sat down in the chair on the other side of the man's desk. "What do you mean?" he asked, his blue eyes clouded.

"Jim, I hate to point out the obvious, but Spock isn't exactly human, and expecting him to act like one is more than a little absurd. You can't teach a fish to breath air," he said, taking another sip of his drink before he set his glass down. He was starving, and he wanted some dinner in a bad way. "Look, why don't you just grab some chow and get some sleep?"

The Captain's blue eyes seemed to clear slightly before he stood up. "Thanks, Bones. I knew I could count on you," he said, slapping the Doctor on the back and walking quickly out of the room.

Raising an eyebrow, the brunette shook his head and capped his decanter, putting it back in with the specimen jars and draining both glasses before putting them back into his desk. He'd never understand some people and he had a feeling that the Captain, along with any woman he'd ever dated, was going to be one of them.

"Good night, Nurse Chapel," he said, raising a hand to the delicate blonde woman before he headed for the mess hall.

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I'd like to thank my Beta, Kami, for her outstanding patience with me on this story. Things are getting back on track, so I should be able to start posting again on this story on a somewhat regular schedule. Thank you for all of your favorites and your reviews! It warms me down to the cockles of my heart. :D

So here it is, ladies and gentlemen, the return of Spock to Kirk. Will he ever be the same? Will Kirk be able to prove to Spock that he's changed and that he's ready for the committed relationship that we all want them to have?

Stay tuned!

Lee


	17. Chapter 17

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: It's not mine, don't sue. :)

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

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Spock stared blankly across the table at the counsellor that had been assigned to him on Starbase 12. A draft wafted across his neck, sending a shiver over the skin that had become vulnerable once again with his haircut. He steepled his hands on the table in front of him, his uniform coat feeling slightly odd after the months out of it that he'd spent.

The link with Kirk was shut down tight, but even with him shielding as hard as he could, the human's agitation seeped into his mind and coloured some of his thoughts. He absently wondered if Kirk was nervous because of this meeting or because of something that had happened during his day.

"I assure you, Commander, that anything you say here will be completely confidential," the balding man said, leaning back in his chair and giving Spock what he assumed was supposed to be a warm and caring smile.

It did nothing more than raise the Vulcan man's suspicions.

Inclining his head, the ebony haired man kept his face blank. "As would be logical for a man of your vocation," he replied simply. He'd always hated the psych evaluations at the Academy. Telling some random human how he felt was akin to walking down the street naked in a sandstorm for a Vulcan.

"Shall we begin, then?" he asked, his empty eyes staring at Spock and sending an illogical chill down his spine.

Nodding, the Vulcan kept his face blank.

"Now, according to our records, you were captured by Klingon mercenaries?" the counselor asked, looking down at a data PADD.

Without saying a word, the Vulcan nodded and moved his hands to rest in his lap. He fought the urge to smooth the wrinkles out of his pants, not wanting to give the Federation councillor anything to note. Any gesture that he made was catalogued and recorded to be analyzed later. It was his every intention to give the man as little to do in his off duty hours as possible.

"Indeed," he replied, his voice calm despite the irrational unease working its way through his system.

Glancing down at the PADD one final time, the little man set it on the table and folded his hands on the screen to keep Spock from seeing what was written there. "Would you please tell me, in your own words, what happened next?" he asked, his beady eyes focusing in on Spock's face with an almost unnerving intensity.

Having had the experience of facing down the entire board of directors of the Vulcan Science Academy with their more than a century of combined practice at making men and women squirm, Spock forced his back to straighten a little more. "I was placed with my fellow officers in a holding cell. One by one we were taken out by the guards and tested in combat. Then we were separated for sale to various places," he replied, speaking nothing but the truth while leaving out any of the emotions that had plagued him.

"And how did that make you feel?" the man asked, his eyes focusing in on Spock harder.

Blinking, Spock's eyebrows rose slightly. "Feel?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Yes, feel."

"I believe it made me feel like I had incurred a broken rib," he replied, deliberately misunderstanding the question.

Pursing his lips, the human took a deep breath. "Please, Mr. Spock, continue," he said, irritation flashing in his eyes.

Raising one eyebrow at the man, the Vulcan nodded. "As I've stated in my report, I was then purchased by a Romulan officer and taken into his household. He released me into the custody of Captain Kirk and the Enterprise along with fourteen other captured Vulcans," he replied, leaving out the months he'd spent warming the man's bed. He'd left that out of his official report and was relieved to learn that his Captain had as well.

"And what was it exactly that you did for the Preator?" the man asked, his face almost as controlled as the Vulcan's. Despite the man's excellent control, Spock could still see the eager, almost cruel light in his eyes.

"I was his Shiavo, his personal slave," he replied, keeping his reply as short and succinct as possible. He ignored the way his stomach tightened at the sound of the Romulan word, pushing his emotions back. They had no place here, despite what the little man kept trying to push on him. He wasn't about to divulge his deepest fears and pain to anyone, much less this sorry excuse for a counsellor.

Tilting his head to the side, the Federation man looked confused. "Forgive me, but I'm afraid I don't understand that word. What is a Sheado?" he asked, stumbling over the word.

Fighting back the urge to correct the man, Spock raised an eyebrow. "I was his personal slave. I served his meals, prepared his uniforms, and kept his quarters orderly," he replied. In the broadest description of the term, it was true. A Shiavo was supposed to be responsible for many of those things along with being their Master's bed warmer when they were away from their mates.

"And during your time together, did the Romulan who had purchased you ever ask you about your former position on the _Enterprise_?" he asked, his tone careful.

"No," Spock replied, keeping the anger out of his voice. The idea that he would betray the vows that he had made as a Starfleet officer was appalling.

As if sensing that he'd toed the line, the balding man leaned back in his chair. "You're telling me that in nearly a year of contact with the Preator of the Romulan military, he didn't ask you once about any Intel that you could possibly provide?" he asked, the disbelief evident in his voice.

Unable to stop himself, Spock's eyebrows rose and he laced his fingers on the table in front of himself. "That is indeed exactly what I expect you to believe. I cannot pretend to know why the Preator chose not to interrogate me, but it is exactly what transpired," he replied, forcing himself to keep his anger controlled. "Is the content of my report being questioned?"

"No, of course not, Commander," the man replied, giving Spock an empty smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Nodding, the Vulcan pulled his hands off of the table and rested them on his knees again. "Do you have any other questions for me?" he asked, keeping a tight control on his emotions.

Glancing down, the counsellor tapped a series of controls into his PADD. "Let me be frank with you, Commander, I still have some doubt as to your ability to perform your duties as a Starfleet officer without a conflict of interest. It has been noted in your report that you were branded with the symbol of the Romulan's house, yet you haven't had it removed. Why is that, Mr. Spock?" the man asked, looking up at the Vulcan across from him with cold, flat eyes.

Refusing to flinch before this small little man, Spock kept his body perfectly still. "The brand on my chest is nothing more than a scar, counsellor. I fail to see what difference an abnormality on my epidermis would have on my ability to perform my duties," he replied, his body completely relaxed and calm despite the knots that his stomach was tying itself into.

"Everything," the man replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've seen the effects of long term captivity before, and I'm worried that your emotional state will cause you to hesitate if you ever come up against the Romulan Empire again among other things."

Raising his chin a notch, Spock fought off the urge to reach across the table and throttle the little man. "If there are any doubts about my loyalties, let me answer them now. I have not, nor will I ever, allow my experiences with a man who kept me as a slave for a year change the ideals that I have upheld for the entirety of my adult life," he replied, steepling his hands on the table in front of him to give them something to do except toss the irritating little man out of an airlock.

Colour crept up the man's face and his eyes narrowed as he stared at Spock. After a few moments of regarding him, the counsellor tapped out a series of commands on his PADD. "Well then, I guess that ends our session for today. I'm going to send out a report to Admiral Pike this afternoon," he informed, tucking the PADD under his hand and pulling it back towards himself.

Standing, the Vulcan nodded. "Have a pleasant afternoon," Spock replied, turning and walking over to the door that led out of the slightly claustrophobic room.

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Taking a slow breath of the recycled ships air, Spock sent his mind inwards, looking for the place of calm that was an integral part of every Vulcan's mind. He embraced the peace of his inner world, walling off the emotions that threatened to consume him.

He knew that his "counselling" session hadn't gone well, but he didn't see how it could have gone any differently. Logically, he knew that he should have assured the counsellor that he was fully recovered, by giving him a token show of emotions. Unfortunately, his Vulcan pride had kept him from revealing his inner workings to a man that, he was mostly sure, wanted nothing more than a good piece of gossip for his comrades.

Pushing the frustration and anger out of his mind, he concentrated on the stillness of his mind.

Just as he was slipping into a deep meditation, the buzzer for his quarters sounded.

Slowly easing open his eyes, the Vulcan pushed himself to his feet and padded across the room to the door. He opened it and blinked as he stared into his own face.

"Ambassador," he greeted, stepping back and allowing the elder Vulcan room to enter his private quarters.

The man walked in, curiosity in his eyes as he stared at the furnishings and small personal touches that Spock had scattered around his Unitarian quarters. "I apologize if I interrupted anything," the older Spock said, gracefully sinking into the chair that was positioned on one side of the coffee table.

Shaking his head, Spock settled himself onto the couch. He adjusted his robes, watching as amusement flitted across the elder Vulcan's face. Blinking, he realized that they were wearing what appeared to be the same set of black robes.

"I've come to bid you farewell. I shall be returning to the new Vulcan colony to help re-acclimate the returning citizens," the man began, steepling his hands over his lap.

Lowering his eyes, Spock stared at the black fabric of his own robes. "How are they adjusting so far?" he asked softly, remembering the look of hatred on the female slave's face as he'd pointed her out.

"Remarkably well, all things considered," the Ambassador replied, his deep voice carrying with ease through the room. "There are only minor problems that have resulted from their prolonged captivity. How have you been adjusting?"

Spock took a deep breath, folding his hands and laying them across his knees. His shorter hair shifted and brushed the tips of his ears, reminding him vaguely of the way the Preator had loved to stroke the delicate tips. "It has been difficult," he finally responded, looking up at the older version of himself.

Nodding sagely, the elder man didn't respond. He just waited patiently, his face empty of any type of judgement for the younger man to continue.

Relief and gratitude mixed together as Spock looked across the table at the Vulcan. Even though he was half human, being raised among Vulcans had made him grow closer to that half of his heritage. He never truly felt comfortable discussing his feelings or emotions with the rash human race.

"Since I've been back and on restrictions, I've found it impossible to take my mind off the events of the past months. It would be easier if I were allowed to return to full duty, but the counsellors on the starbase have refused to clear me for duty," he explained, hoping that the older version of himself would understand his need to move and work.

Amusement washed over the elder Vulcan's features, making his dark eyes sparkle. "I assume you haven't thrown yourself at them weeping and bemoaning your fate?" he asked, an almost non-existent smile curling the edges of his lips.

Raising an eyebrow at the man's amused expression, Spock replied, "Indeed."

Ambassador Spock shook his head slightly and shifted to lean back into the slightly uncomfortable piece of furniture that he was occupying. "They never understood why I wouldn't explain anything to them either," he replied with a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes.

Relaxing, Spock inclined his head. "I had the same problem at the Academy. I believe that one counsellor chose to change his vocation to botany after a session with me," he replied, keeping his face straight only through a severe effort of will.

"Professor Albermiter?" Ambassador Spock asked, raising both of his eyebrows.

"Indeed," he replied, steepling his hands in front of him. He didn't feel guilty about that. The professor had been questioning his morals concerning the other students, particularly the male students, so he'd responded in kind. At the end of a one hour session, he'd convinced the counsellor that maybe he was better suited for something far away from the normal human population.

"Some things are constant no matter which course the universe takes," the Vulcan replied, shaking his head. "You know, when I felt the need to unburden myself to someone I always went to one man."

Tilting his head, Spock raised an eyebrow.

"James Kirk," Ambassador Spock replied, his dark eyes staring intently at his younger self.

Instantly, all of the relaxation that had been seeping through Spock's muscles vanished, leaving behind an almost painful tension. He clasped his hands together and straightened his backbone, looking away from the man across from him. After a few seconds of silence, he pushed himself off of the couch and walked over to the sideboard that was in a neatly recessed section of his wall.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked, pouring himself a glass of water from the decanter.

"No thank you," the man replied, his voice calm and soothing.

When he'd gathered his thoughts slightly, Spock resumed his seat and took a small sip from his glass.

"I gather that you have not spoken with your bondmate about the situation?" he asked, raising one eyebrow in question.

Pursing his lips, Spock forced himself to look up and stare into the eyes that matched his own. "No," he replied, feeling his stomach clench.

Nodding, the Ambassador folded his hands and calmly met Spock's gaze. "You may find it to be beneficial. I've found that Jim has a rather interesting outlook on problems. He has a tenacity that I have yet to see matched in my two hundred years," he replied. "Unfortunately, I will have to take my leave of you now. My transport leaves in a few hours and I want to see to the accommodation of the returned Vulcans."

Standing, Spock walked his counterpart to the door. "Live long and prosper, Ambassador," he said formally, giving the traditional Vulcan salute.

Returning the gesture, the Ambassador nodded to his younger self. "I shall see what I can do to help ease your return to duty," he stated, giving Spock meaningful look before he turned and exited.

After the door shut, Spock closed his eyes and sighed. He strode across the room, heading for his bathroom and the sonic rays that he knew awaited him. Ignoring the emotional turmoil that raged inside of him and the bond that led to one particularly fascinating human, he stripped out of his robes and stepped under the rays, leaning against the wall and trying to forget.

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Kirk shifted in his chair, scrolling through the information on the tiny screen in front of him. It was a maintance report from Scotty about how he'd retrofitted the warp engines. He tilted his head and pursed his lips at a particularly technical paragraph, absently wishing that he'd paid more attention during his advanced warp theory class. Scotty loved to write his reports in "techese". Once he'd been so lost that he'd almost asked for a translator.

He looked over as he heard the communication panel give a soft beep to alert Uhura that there was an incoming transmission. He'd been expecting a call from Pike ever since he'd seen the almost livid expression on the counsellor's face when he'd called to inform Kirk that his Vulcan First Officer's status was still under debate.

"Captain," Uhura said, giving him a worried look as she turned to look at him. "I have Admiral Pike for you."

Nodding and giving the woman a reassuring smile, he pushed himself out of his chair and set the report on his seat. "I'll be in the conference room," he replied, heading into the small room that was supposed to be for briefings. It had turned into more of an office for him than anything else.

After he'd seated himself, he pushed the button that would activate the small view screen. "Admiral," he greeted, giving his former commander a warm smile. "What can I do for you?"

"Let me get right down to it, Kirk. I have a report from Counsellor Roberts concerning Commander Spock," the man replied, his deep voice easily carrying an air of command even over the transmission. "It says that while he's physically fit for duty, it's his opinion that Spock will betray us to the Romulans at the first opportunity."

Anger ripped through Kirk's system so rapidly that he didn't have time to control his expression. He stared at the monitor, his jaw clenching. Taking a calming breath, he shook his head. "That's ridiculous," he replied quickly, forcing his jaw to relax. "Spock has bounced back remarkably well considering the amount of time that he was away. Besides, Sulu was put through far worse and he's back on the bridge with no one even blinking an eye."

Nodding, Pike studied his face for a few seconds before he leaned back in his chair. "Both the Ambassador and I thought you'd say that, and we both agree. I'll trust you on this, Kirk, but make sure that you're not letting your own feelings get in the way of your judgement. If you think Spock needs some more time, I need to know," he said, intensely staring into Kirk's face.

Pursing his lips, Kirk shook his head. "Having seen him in action the best thing for him right now is to get back in the saddle. You know as well as I do how damn stubborn he can be. Besides, could you really see Mr. Regulation betraying the vows that he's made to the Federation?" he asked, forcing his fists to open and his hands to lay flat on the table.

Snorting, Pike nodded. "That's one man who's almost as pig headed as you are. Alright, Kirk, I'm going to release him for duty and send you on your way once Mr. Scott finishes up," he said, shaking his head.

With a half smile, Kirk bid the Admiral goodbye and leaned back in his chair. He stared at his reflection in the blank monitor, trying to get his temper under control. Over the last few months, his short fuse had been getting shorter and shorter. He'd been sure that with the return of his First Officer, his world would go back to normal, but it had only gotten stranger.

Every time he started to drift into one of Spock's desert landscapes while he was sleeping, the Vulcan would pull away until he shut down the link. He'd been very formal, almost cold for the past weeks. Hopefully, when Spock was allowed to come back to the full duty status, he would become more comfortable and allow Kirk to get closer.

Shaking his head, he pushed himself up and headed out of the conference room. When he saw Uhura's worried face, he nodded to her and gave her a thumb up. When relief washed over her face, he had to turn away from the woman that had been Spock's lover until the accident that had changed the course of their lives forever.

"Mr. Sulu, you have the conn," he informed the helmsman as he left the bridge. They were still in space dock, so he didn't feel bad at all about leaving a few hours early. He was the captain, after all.

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The Preator stared out at the vast, empty space that dominated the view in front of his flagship, the Zacur. All around him, the efficient sounds of the crew was a soothing background noise to the inner turmoil that seethed beneath the surface.

Spock's face floated in front of his eyes, a constant ache that seemed to gnaw at him. He leaned back in the slightly uncomfortable chair, picturing the beautiful Vulcan in his mind.

Letting his eyes close for just a second, he clenched his left hand into a fist on the arm of his command chair as the anger and jealousy washed through him again. Giving Spock up had been a mistake.

The war with the Klingons was escalating, the warrior race sure that they would be able to fight on both fronts. He knew that it had been his surrendering of his Vulcan Shiavo that had cemented the relations between the Empire and the Federation, but they could have found another way.

The Romulan Empire had survived much harder and would continue to survive long after her enemies were dust in their graves.

He knew that when he went back to his quarters that night, the empty space next to him would be like a hole in his universe. Spock had been an almost perfect Shiavo, willing, responsive, and inventive after he'd broken him. It nearly drove him insane knowing that his slave had probably taken back up with his human lover again.

James T. Kirk, the Captain of the USS Enterprise, one of the youngest men ever to be given command of a vessel, and the bondmate of his Shiavo. He forced his hand to relax out of the fist it had been clenched into, the leather creaking softly as he laid it out flat on his knee.

His full, lush lips pursed into a harsh line as he entertained himself with the ways he could torture the human before ending him entirely.

A flash of bright light just before his ship violently shook ripped him out of one of his favorite fantasies. He braced himself as a Klingon bird of prey swooped into view.

"Evasive pattern Omega!" he commanded, his voice carrying over the commotion on the bridge easily.

As the ship lurched to the left and rolled, the artificial gravity fluctuating slightly as they were hit again from a second ship, the Preator quickly tapped out a series of commands to the ships that were hiding behind the asteroid field nearby.

"Preator, we have six more enemy ships on an intercept course! They'll be here in approximately seven minutes!" his tactical officer called as there was a flash of light and an explosion in front of them from one of the ships.

Taking a deep breath, the Romulan leader nodded as he mentally calculated the time it would take his ships to get there and realizing that they wouldn't make it in time.

"Helm, head for the asteroid field at maximum warp. We might be able to outrun them long enough for our support ships to reach us," he said, watching the view on the screen change as the ship rapidly changed course.

They took out one more enemy ship before a lucky shot from one of the enemy ships took out their propulsion system. The Preator watched with calm eyes as they enemy fleet barreled down on them, the lead ship's markings becoming clearer every second. His gunner kept firing, the tenacious young man rapidly responding to the commands of his superior officer.

As shudder after shudder ripped through the ship, the Preator continued to call out orders to his crew. Another mini super nova in space signaled the death of one more enemy ship, lightening the burden of what felt seemed to be a swarm of ships.

His ship rocked again and again as it was abused, the metal groaning with protest as pieces of his hull were ripped away. When he felt the rumble beneath his feet, he knew that they had been hit somewhere that signaled the end of his ship.

As he braced himself for the cold empty death that awaited him, he brought up the image of his former slave, silently wishing his beautiful Spock farewell.

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What should have been a frozen wind whistled past on the barren, snowy terrain. The black sky overhead was dotted with a million stars, giving Kirk a slightly uncomfortable feeling of deja vu. His bare feet crunched through the ice, not feeling the cold that should be numbing his toes by now.

He looked around; knowing that somewhere around here, there should be a tall, lean Vulcan. After a few more steps, he noticed a figure silhouetted against the black of the night sky. The closer he got to his goal, the more surprised he was that he was still here. Usually, at this point, Spock would block their link however accidental it may be and block Kirk from his mind.

Coming to a stop next to the Vulcan, Kirk carefully kept his hands clasped behind his back. He stared out at the beautiful, yet barren landscape in front of him. It was hard, with Spock so close and warm, to keep his hands to himself, but he knew that the only reason he'd been allowed into this dream was because the Vulcan was finally willing to talk.

The last thing he was going to do was to interrupt.

"I must apologize," Spock said, his voice startling Kirk out of his reprieve.

Looking over, Kirk's brows drew together. "For?" he asked, slightly confused.

Without looking over, the Vulcan pulled his hands behind his back and straightened his spine. Kirk could faintly feel the man's carefully controlled emotions simmering beneath the surface. It was like watching a river flow beneath ice, you could see the water, but you couldn't touch it. It was disconcerting for the human, so used to being in the thick of his own emotions.

"I never truly apologized for marooning you on Delta Vega," he replied, his lips pursing slightly.

A half smile curled Kirk's lips up, giving his face a mischievous cast. "Yeah, but if you hadn't, then we never would have stopped Nero," he replied, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "At least this is warmer than that ball of ice."

"Indeed," Spock replied, his own warmer looking robes standing in stark contrast to the pure, untouched white of the snow. "You did state your dislike for a warmer climate. I merely compromised."

Shaking his head, Kirk stared out at the barren landscape. "You always seem to like it so stark, though. What's wrong with a few trees or bushes now and then? Or a squirrel or two?" he asked, waving a hand towards the horizon and tilting his head as if he were trying to envision the changes in the scenery.

"Having lived most of my life on a planet that was essentially a desert, I find that I enjoy my landscapes without interruption," Spock replied, leaning his head towards Kirk.

Nodding, Kirk stared out at the ice, trying to imagine a childhood without a waving sea of corn. "Most of my childhood was spent looking out at rather fruitful farmland with lots of livestock," he said, thinking fondly back on the numerous episodes of cow tipping that had gotten him into some serious hot water.

"What is cow tipping?" Spock asked turning and staring at Kirk with a slightly confused expression on his face at the unfamiliar term he'd pulled out of the man's mind.

Kirk grinned unrepentantly. "Well, you sneak up on a cow, a bovine that sleeps standing upright, and you push it over," he replied, turning to look at Spock and using his hands to pantomime the act.

"And this is considered entertaining?" the black haired man replied, one eyebrow rising until it almost reached his hairline.

Nodding, Kirk gave a soft chuckle. "Oh yeah. When the cow wakes up hitting the ground, it's not exactly happy with you, and you have to get out of there before it catches you or you'll be trampled," he replied, explaining his favourite part.

Shaking his head, Spock continued to stare at Kirk. "What an unusual pastime," he replied, looking back towards the icy planet stretching out in front of them.

Taking a chance, Kirk reached out and gently slipped his fingers around the hands that were clasped behind his bondmate's back. He carefully tugged one hand closer to him and laced their digits together before he turned and looked towards the planet in front of them as well. He wasn't naturally a patient man, but he forced himself to go slow and ignore the urge to rush into things.

"I'll have to take you sometime so that you can tip Farmer Jacob's cows. They're the fastest," he said, continuing their conversation so that it wouldn't draw attention to the fact that he was touching his First Officer for the first time in a month.

With a soft sigh, Spock stepped slightly closer to the human and pressed their sides together. A discussion concerning the torment of animals hadn't been the original reason that he'd brought Kirk here, but it was comforting to know that his bondmate's opinion of him was still the same. You didn't invite someone to your home if you had reservations about their character.

Carefully, Kirk slipped an arm around the Vulcan's waist and held him gently. "I spoke with Admiral Pike this afternoon," he said quietly, feeling the Vulcan tense under his arm and quickly continuing. "I'll expect you on the bridge tomorrow morning for your usual shift. Your replacement isn't even half as good as you are. We've missed you."

When the Vulcan's body sagged slightly in relief, Kirk tightened his arm for a second and resumed staring out at the barren landscape. The longer he stared at it, the more it grew on him. It was a lot like Spock: cold and reserved on the outside, but with a hidden beauty that captured you.

He glanced over at the man next to him. Seeing the peace that seemed to seep out of his bondmate's being he decided that he didn't need trees and bushes. He'd stand on a thousand barren worlds; stare into a thousand empty skies if it would make his Vulcan happy.

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Thanks to my beta, Kami, for making this chapter happen. It would have been much more boring without her. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

Read and review to let me know what you think!

Lee


	18. Chapter 18

**If there are images in this attachment, they will not be displayed.** Download the original attachment

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, Patrick Stewart, or Leonard Nemoy, to name a few of my favorite things. What I do own is the Preator, who isn't bad for a consolation prize, and my plot. :)

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definately. Possibly others.

Warning: Strong sexual content in this chapter. No, it's not what you're thinking.

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Kirk sighed as he stripped out of his uniform and tossed it towards the pile of dirty clothes that sat in the corner of the room farthest from his bed. He shucked off his boots and trousers as he headed for the shower, leaving his footwear and his pants where they fell. He was exhausted, but he needed a shower before he'd be able to get some sleep.

As he turned on the water and stepped into the spray, he sighed with satisfaction. His ship was still in one piece, and his crew was alive and well. He took a deep breath and blew it out to relax his muscles as the hot water did its magic. Shaking back his wet hair, Jim pressed his hands against the side of the shower stall and leaned forwards.

The steam from the water made breathing just slightly difficult; enough to be a challenge, making him close his eyes. He took a deep breath of the hot air, reveling in the moisture that was washing him clean.

When he heard the soft beep of the chime to his door, he swiped the water that was running over his eyes. After a few seconds, the sound repeated itself, more insistent than the first time. Figuring that whoever was on the other side wouldn't go away until he answered the damn thing; Kirk grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his hips as he headed towards the door.

Pushing his wet hair away from his face and fighting a small niggling of irritation, the Captain tapped the door panel.

Immediately, all of his irritation fled when he saw who his visitor was. "Spock," he said, a smile warming his blue eyes as he stepped back. "Please, come in."

"I apologize if this is a bad time," the Vulcan said, his eyes very carefully held at a spot just over the human's left shoulder.

"No, no, not at all. Take a seat," Kirk said, indicating the grouping of furniture that sat in the living area of his cabin.

When Spock hesitated, Kirk rolled his eyes. "I promise I'll just be a second," he stated firmly, walking back towards where the water was still running in his shower.

He didn't know if Spock was going to still be there when he got out, but the knowledge that the Vulcan was just outside while he was naked, wet, and soapy had his hormones all in a tizzy. The image of Spock walking in and joining him in the shower was enough to set his heart skipping even as he turned the water colder and tried to get a grip on himself.

After he'd quickly washed and rinsed, he got out and dried off as best he could with the slightly damp towel that he'd left on the sink.

"So what brings you by?" he called out of the bathroom, praying that he wasn't talking to himself.

When he heard Spock's melodious voice float from the other room, his heart skipped a beat.

"I came to bring back a number of things that I believe belong to you. I found them in my quarters," the man replied as Kirk pulled on a pair of loose cotton pants.

Grabbing a t-shirt from his drawer, he started to tug it on as he walked out into the room where Spock waited. "My things?" he asked, feeling slightly sheepish.

Raising an eyebrow, the Vulcan offered up two boots, both of them for Kirk's left feet. "As I am not a size ten and a half regular, it would appear that these are yours," he replied, his expression bland. Except for the soft warmth that the human could feel through their bond, Kirk would have sworn that Spock was irritated.

"So that's where they ran off to," he replied, flopping down on the couch next to the ebony haired man and grabbing the offensive footwear. Setting them down next to the couch, he looked over at his bondmate, taking the time to study his face in the softer lighting of his cabin. "Thank you for bringing them back. I never would have guessed that they were in your room, and I think I've got all of the ten and a half's that we brought with us from supply. I was going to wear bedroom slippers tomorrow if I couldn't find them."

His teasing earned him a stern look from the man that was ruined by the amusement dancing in his eyes. "One might wonder how they managed to make their way under my bed in the first place," he asked, turning to face Kirk more fully on the sofa.

Pulling one leg up to his chest, Kirk gave Spock a rueful grin. "On my feet?" he asked, stating the logical answer to the question.

In reply, Spock just arched one eyebrow, staring Kirk down.

Sighing, the human leaned back against his couch and slowly reached out to gently take one of Spock's hands in his own. When the Vulcan didn't pull away, Kirk felt something relax in his chest that he didn't even realize was tense.

"When you went missing and we were looking for you, I missed you. I ended up having a lot of trouble sleeping because I was worried about what had happened. One night I was wondering around the ship and I ended up in your quarters," he replied, looking down at their intertwined hands and trying to gauge the Vulcan's reactions from the emotions that were filtering through their bond.

When he felt the shock and the guilt, he gave Spock's hand a gentle squeeze, knowing that it was extremely difficult for the man to keep contact between the two of them. He was getting much better at sensing the emotions that were coming at him through his bond with the Vulcan. It was getting easier and easier to discern which ones came from him, and which were products of his bondmate's day.

"I see," Spock said simply, causing Kirk to look up. When he felt the hesitation in the man's mind, he gave a mental sigh.

"I'm sorry if I invaded your personal space. I shouldn't have," he said, feeling his body tense slightly. "If you want to, you can come and sleep in my room."

The moment the words left his mouth, he wished that he could take them back. He'd meant them as a joke, but the obviously private man had obviously taken it in a much different direction.

"Jim, I don't believe that would be wise," Spock said, the emotions coming at Kirk through their bond cutting off as the Vulcan shut the door between them.

Forcing a smile onto his lips, Kirk gave a nonchalant shrug. "I'm pretty sure no one will care," he replied, thinking of the streaking incident. He'd better keep that one to himself for a few more weeks so that he didn't scare Spock away.

Inkling his head, Spock gently pulled his hand free and pretended to adjust the uniform that he was still wearing. "Indeed," he replied, folding his hands in his lap.

Kirk felt frustration bubble up in him as he studied the Vulcan face. He couldn't sense the man's emotions, couldn't read his face, and it wasn't as if Spock was about to spill his innermost workings to anyone, much less a human. "Would you like to join me for some dinner? I was just about to grab something," he asked, motioning towards the hallway.

When Spock shook his head, Kirk tried to hold back his feelings of sadness that quickly morphed into jealousy as he heard the man's next statement.

"I've already promised Lieutenant Uhura that we'd have dinner."

Trying to keep a lid on the little green monster that was rampaging around his mind, Kirk just nodded and ran his hand through his rapidly drying hair. "Uhura?" he asked, unable to keep a slight edge out of his voice.

"Indeed," the Vulcan replied, his hands shifting until they were flat on his knees.

Forcing himself to smile at the man, Kirk nodded. He pushed himself off of the couch, grabbing the boots from off of the floor, taking them into his room. Taking unnecessary care, he set them inside the closet before turning back towards the living room to give himself some time to cool off. He padded back to where Spock was sitting ramrod straight on the couch.

Standing in front of the man that he'd just gotten back a week and a half before, Kirk reached out and laid a hand on Spock's shoulder. When the man looked up at him with curious dark eyes, he smiled even though he felt like throwing an epic sized tantrum. Spock needed his support right now no matter what he decided to do.

"I hope you have fun," he said quietly, stroking his thumb over the fabric covering the man's shoulder.

When the Vulcan nodded, Kirk thought he might have caught a hint of relief in his dark eyes. Carefully, he kept himself under control until the man had left his quarters, bidding Kirk an impersonal farewell.

For the first time since they'd gotten into this whole mess, Kirk flopped down on the couch and thought about something that he'd never considered before but should have. What if Spock wasn't gay?

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~Flash back~

Jim's fists balled as he stared up into the beautiful face of his mother. She shook her head and sighed, reaching out to cup his cheeks with her strong, warm hands. He jerked out of her reach and took a step back. If she gave him one more hug, he was going to burst into tears and beg her not to leave. It was just going to be for a week, but this was the fourth time this month that she'd had to go off planet and he was sick of it.

"Jimmy, please don't be like that," she pleaded, her hands held out to him as she pleaded her case. "It's just for a few days. I'll be back before you know it."

Shaking his head, young Kirk tightened his fists so that he wouldn't humiliate himself by crying in front of his mother and stepfather. "But you're going to miss the last day of school," he replied, irritated that his voice shook slightly. "its parents day and you promised me that you'd be there."

When his stepfather rolled his eyes, Kirk shot him a murderous glare.

A gentle touch to his shoulder drew his attention back towards his mother. "I know I promised you that I'd be there, but they need me to go to Alpha Centauri for a conference. I'm going to be speaking to hundreds of people who need to hear our story," she said, managing to stroke a hand over his face before he stepped back again.

"Why can't they find someone else? There were hundreds of people who got off that stupid ship. Let one of them go," he said through clenched teeth. He was so tired of hearing about the 'valiant and glorious' actions of his long dead father. If the man had loved his mother so much, why hadn't he lived? Then maybe Kirk wouldn't be stuck with his butt face of a stepfather.

"Now honey, you know why-" his mother started, only to be silenced by his stepfather's deeper voice.

"Winnona, just let him have his tantrum. You know how high strung he can be sometimes. I'll go to parent's day with him," the man said, giving her a smile that Kirk knew was fake.

"I'd rather die than have you go!" he shouted, his temper snapping. "You're such an asshole!"

His mother's mouth dropped open and her hand rose to cover her mouth. "Young man!" she said, her hand snaking out.

Before she could grab his ear in a death grip that he knew would end in either the removal of his lobe or an apology to the man that he hated, he ducked and raced through the house. Pushing open the screen door, he bolted across the beautiful lawn towards the corn fields.

"James Kirk you get back into this house right now!" Frank yelled after him just as he ducked into the tall stalks.

Tears finally streamed down Kirk's cheeks as he pushed himself to run even though his lungs were burning and he got a stitch in his side. He stumbled and tripped, landing hard in the dirt near the centre of his step father's prized corn. A sob ripped from his chest and he pulled his knees up to his chest.

Burying his face against the rough material of his jeans, the young Kirk sobbed out his misery to the uncaring stalks. He never seemed to be good enough for Frank and now the man was convincing his mother that he wasn't good enough for her either.

First, he hadn't been good enough for his father to live for.

Now, he wasn't good enough for his mom to want to live with them.

Somewhere, deep inside his ten year old heart, the idea took root that he was never going to be good enough for anyone. No one would ever really want to stay with him once they knew how deficient he really was. Maybe Frank had been right and he really wasn't worth all of the trouble?

When his mother yelled that they were leaving for the spaceport, he ignored her. He swallowed against the wave of fresh tears that threatened to fall, even when he heard his stepfather's prized car speed down the dirt drive that connected their remote farmhouse to the main road.

He ducked into the house only when he knew they were gone, shutting and locking the door to his room. Jim knew that Frank wouldn't bother him in here. The man could barely stand the sight of him.

Early the next morning, when his stepfather was still sleeping, he snuck into the room his mother shared with the man that hated him and plucked the keys to his antique convertible out of his pocket.

~End flashback~

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Kirk stepped onto the bridge, giving a huge yawn. He'd been awake half the night, trying to fall asleep without success. When Spock had closed the bond between them, it had left a slightly uncomfortable hole in the back of his mind. It had been a relief when he'd felt Spock fall asleep and suddenly the Vulcan's emotions had slowly begun to trickle through their bond again.

And then he'd fallen asleep himself and had relived that awful memory from when he'd been a kid.

Shaking his head to clear it, he flopped into the chair that he'd coveted since the first day he'd set foot on the bridge. He nodded to the yeoman who brought him a steaming mug of coffee, taking a sip of the slightly bitter brew and nodding his thanks to the young woman.

"Captain, I've got something on sensors," his bondmate's voice cut through the peaceful silence that had settled over his crew like a laser scalpel through tissue.

Pushing himself wearily to his feet, Kirk walked over to the science station, sipping his coffee on the way. "What is it, Spock?" he asked, refusing to return to the formality that they'd had when they'd first met.

"It looks like a large fleet, headed straight for the border," the man reported, looking up from the instruments.

For a second, Kirk was lost in the beauty of the man's eyes before his words processed. "How long before they get here?" he asked, instantly alert as adrenaline pumped through his system.

"If the rate at which they're travelling holds steady and the data from the Argos sensor array is accurate, they'll be here in four days," the man replied, his eyes darkening as worry flickered through Kirk's mind from his bondmate before it was quickly shuttered away behind the man's walls.

A zing of adrenaline shot through Kirk's blood as he nodded. "How big is the fleet?" he asked, calculating the time it would take the rest of the ships to arrive from the Lorenchian battle fields and mentally cringing. It would take them at least five days at maximum warp to make it here.

"It appears that the Klingons are sending seven heavy cruisers, sixteen birds of prey, and a few smaller ships that we can't quite lock down at this range," the Vulcan replied, his voice cool and detached even with the turmoil that Kirk could sense running through his system.

Nodding, Kirk turned to Uhura. "Get me Admiral Pike," he said, heading towards the small conference room where he held his staff meetings.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, turning back to her console to start patching the transmission through the emergency system. She glanced over at Spock, her eyes tight with worry before she looked down at the switches in front of her once again.

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"So there's no way for us to get any extra help out here?" Kirk asked in disbelief, his voice rising slightly at the end.

Shaking his head, the Admiral looked at the young Captain and sighed. "Look, Kirk, with the fleet still trying to head back from the front, it'll take at least five days for us to get any battle ready ships in your way. I'll talk to the command, but it doesn't look good, I'm not going to lie. If we can't get help out to you, I want you to get your ass out of there and rendezvous with the rest of the fleet," Pike said, pointing a finger at the screen.

With a scowl, Kirk shook his head. "You know as well as I do that if they get across the border that they're going to spread out and cause as much damage as they can. If we can't stop them here where we've got them in a bottle neck, the colonies that are closest to the boarder are going to be up the creek without a paddle," he said, thinking of the twelve colonies that were within a few light years of the boarder.

"Give me a day to work on it," the Admiral said, glancing away from the door. "Until then, I want you and your staff to do everything you can to warn those colonies that are closest to the boarder to evacuate immediately. You can even make it an order if they won't agree. You know how damn stubborn those colonists can be."

Rolling his eyes, Kirk nodded. "We're on it, Admiral," he said, bidding the man a quick farewell before he walked back out onto the bridge to face his senior staff.

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Sulu pushed the buzzer to Chekov's quarters gently, almost afraid that the Russian was angry with him. He'd had a pot of water heating in his quarters, but Pavel hadn't shown up at the time that they'd agreed on and hadn't answered the hails that he'd sent down to the teen's room. Paranoia had made him shut off the water and head down here himself to make sure that the boy was alright.

When there was still no answer, he bit his lip and reluctantly hit the security override code. As the doors slid open, he poked his head in and looked from side to side. Not seeing anyone in the main room, he took a hesitant step in.

"Pavel?" he called, taking another to let the doors seal the room off from the curious stares of any crewmember that might be walking by. "Pavel, are you in here?"

He walked deeper into the Russian's rooms, worry pinching his brow. A soft rumbling sound broke the stillness, snapping Sulu's head towards the sleeping alcove. Gently tapping the panel that controlled the lights, Sulu brought enough light into the room to see.

Stretched out on the bed, Chekov lay face down. He was still dressed in the uniform that he'd been wearing that day on shift. One boot lay under him and the stockinet toe of his left foot was lodged in the back of his right shoe, obviously having failed in its attempt at removing the boy's footwear before he'd fallen asleep.

Smiling softly, Sulu silently stepped across the room. His eyes roamed over the sleeping teen's form, lingering on the angelic face that was so shocking in its innocence. The mop of curly hair glinted slightly in the soft light from the seating area, almost making it look like Pavel had a halo to complete his cherubic appearance.

Kneeling down, the Asian man reached for the boy's boot, intending to relieve Chekov's foot of its burden before he left. He began gently tugging it off, sighing softly when it slid free with a soft whisper of sound.

The sudden kick that was aimed at his head caught him off guard, knocking with enough force to send him sprawling across the floor. His hands came up just in time to block the following elbow that had been aimed at his nose in a blow that he knew would have sent him to Sickbay.

"Pavel stop!" he yelled, as the boy's weight pressed him to the floor. "Pavel, it's me, Hikaru!"

Angelic blue eyes were wide with fear and anger as they stared at the older man. Sulu used the boy's momentary pause to grab his hands and hold the wrists to keep the Russian from hitting him again. He watched as the boy slowly woke up, the angry fear being pushed out by a wary confusion.

"Hikaru?" Chekov asked, relaxing his body and letting his not unpleasant weight settle onto the man under him.

Trying not to think about the fact that a rather attractive young man was sitting inches away from his groin, Sulu nodded. "Sorry I scared you. I tried calling you, but I couldn't get through. I got worried and came down to make sure that you were alright," he said hurriedly, his excuses sounding lame even to his own ears.

He'd been desperate to absorb the normal, unflinching way the young man was looking at him. Pavel never judged him, never looked at him askance, and had never treated him with anything other than the open, friendly joviality that he'd recently found sorely lacking in the stares of the other crewmembers.

"For what?" the boy asked, tilting his head and stifling what looked like a jaw cracking yawn in the making.

Licking his lips and easing his grip on Chekov's wrists Sulu shifted just slightly so that the boy was balanced in the cradle of his hip bones instead of leaning heavily on his still slightly sore right hip. "We were supposed to have-" he stared, only to be interrupted.

"Tea!" Chekov wailed softly, slipping one of his hands free to slap himself on the forehead. "Urgh! I must have fallen asleep when I got back to my quarters to change. I'm so sorry, Hikaru."

Unable to keep from smiling, Sulu shook his head. "No, it's okay. I'm just glad that you're alright," he said, reluctantly letting go of the boy's other hand to rub at what he knew was going to be a wicked bruise on his jaw.

"Did I kick you? I'm so sorry!" Pavel said, leaning forwards to peer at his injured comrade.

When he slid forwards and brushed against the front of the Asian man's trousers, Sulu sucked in a breath. His eyes closed, the pain from his jaw becoming nothing compared to the pulse of pure carnal need that sent his heart into overdrive.

"I'm so sorry! Does it hurt? Oh, boy. My sister always told me that I kicked like a mule," the teen said, his hands fluttering over Hikaru's face.

Reaching up, Sulu grabbed Pavel's hips, holding them still so that the young man would stop squirming all over his lap and making an already hard situation only worse. "Pavel, it's okay," he lied, opening his eyes. He blinked as he stared into the beautiful eyes that were so close to his own that he could see the soft flecks of grey that made their colour so remarkable...

"But your jaw is turning purple and it's getting all swollen!" Chekov replied breathlessly, the grey in his eyes shrinking as his breathing picked up.

Ignoring the pain in his face, Hikaru leaned up and gently captured the young man's lips with his own. As the boy's slightly exotic taste danced over his tongue, Sulu felt his hormones kicking into overdrive. He couldn't help the gentle squeeze that his hands gave to the boy's hips, but he revelled in the moan that escaped. His thumbs rubbed gently over the young man's hipbones even as he deepened the kiss. Gently, he ravaged the Russian's willing mouth. A soft moan of his own escaped when Pavel's hands slipped into his hair, tunnelling through the silky strands and sending shivers up and down his spine.

A small part of his mind whispered that this was wrong, that it was another sin tallied up against his already sullied soul.

The larger, more hormones controlled part of his brain quickly squished that rebellious thought as Pavel's hips rocked against him in an instinctive motion that brought a gasp to both of their lips. As his body grew heavy with desire, Sulu couldn't help the gentle, slow movement of his lower body.

Leaving one of his hands on the boy's hips, he sent the other one skimming lightly up the Russian's spine. He traced the contours of the teen's spine through the soft material of his uniform, feeling a wave of hunger when Pavel arched under his touch. As Chekov's hands tugged his hair, he broke the kiss to give a breathy, half strangled moan. His hair had always been one of his erogenous zones, something that the young man had found out very early.

Using the younger boy's movements when his spine bowed, Sulu sat up and wrapped his arms around the slender body in his lap. He guided the boy's quickly accelerating thrusts with one arm as he leaned forwards and nibbled at the soft flesh of Pavel's neck. His own skin seemed to be going up in flames wherever the Russian's hesitant hands wandered over it. Letting go of his misgivings, Sulu allowed himself to moan when Chekov's nimble hands slid through his hair again and again.

A stream of Russian stuttered out of Pavel's lips, interrupted by the breathy, wanton sounds that had Hikaru gritting his teeth against the lust that was beating at him. Sulu's tongue danced over the boy's obviously sensitive neck, running from just behind his ear down to the gentle bump that his Adam's apple made. He felt his blood surge through his veins, leaving him feeling more alive than he had since before he'd been captured.

When the teen's arms wrapped shyly around his neck, Hikaru buried his face in the boy's chest and sped up the already frantic pace, feeling his climax drawing closer and closer with every breathy moan that was ripped from Pavel's throat. He'd never felt anything this intense in his whole life, not even during the most intimate moments with the man that he'd been sure he'd loved what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Nothing compared to the absolute wanton abandon that the Russian in his lap was now displaying.

"H-Hikaru!" Pavel moaned, his elegant hands gripping the Asian's shoulders with surprising strength as his entire body stiffened.

Forcing his eyes to open through the pleasure that was washing through him, Sulu looked up and watched the astonished, blissful expression that crossed the teen's face. As Pavel's eyes rolled into the back of his head, Hikaru felt sudden warmth against his stomach, making him groan softly as a desperate need he'd never thought possible rushed through him. He barely held himself back from ripping the boy's clothing from his body and taking him right there on the floor of his cabin.

Pavel wouldn't be ready, though, he just knew it. With a few hard, slightly frustrated thrusts, Sulu followed him over the edge as he imagined himself buried to the hilt in that young willing body. He groaned through clenched teeth as he kept his eyes open so that he could absorb every nuance of Chekov's shocked features as his arms convulsed around the warmth caged there.

Ignoring the slightly uncomfortable wetness that was slowly spreading against both his shirt and his trousers, Sulu reached up and gently brushed a damp curl away from Chekov's eyes. He licked his lips as he tried to get control of his breathing. The air in the room suddenly seemed thinner, as if he couldn't drag enough into his lungs to support the racing beat of his heart.

If it was this good with all of his clothes on, getting the Russian naked was probably going to kill him.

"Pavel?" he asked softly, his lust rapidly cooling as the boy continued to stare at him in sleepy eyed astonishment. "Pavel, are you alright?"

When a soft moan was his only response, Hikaru's brows drew together and he reached up to cup the young man's face in his hands. "Pavel? Chekov, can you hear me?"

He'd heard that some people blacked out after a really good orgasm, and though he knew that he'd been hard pressed to stay in this world, he really hoped that the boy didn't faint. It would be truly embarrassing to have to explain to Dr. McCoy that he'd dry humped the teen into unconsciousness.

"Oh boy," the teen said, his voice rough as he sagged against the Asian man. "Oh boy."

Trying to get a good onto his face, Hikaru slipped an arm around the boy's waist to keep him upright. "Pavel, please talk to me," he said, worry and the image of McCoy's murderous face now killing the post-orgasmic bliss that had relaxed every muscle and nerve in his body.

"Mmmm," was the response he got as the teen's arms wrapped around his shoulders and gently squeezed.

Hoping that the mumble was a good response, Sulu let himself relax and burry his nose in the tempting exposed skin. He smiled into the boy's neck as a shiver twitched through the young man in his arms. His hands stroked up and down the Russian's back, soothing the already relaxed muscles. When Pavel's arms squeezed him tightly then started to slide from his shoulders, Hikaru opened his eyes and looked up at the young man's face.

A smile broke over Chekov's features, his blue eyes lighting up like a tree on Christmas Eve. He shivered again as he stared at Sulu's face before his hand reached up and stroked over the man's lips. As the gentle fingers traced the outline of his mouth, the Asian parted them softly and sighed as shivers of his own made his muscles twitch.

"So you're alright?" Hikaru asked softy against the boy's fingertips.

Pavel shook his head, leaning down and kissing Sulu with a soft innocence that made his heart race. "No," he whispered, momentarily giving Sulu pause. "I'm wonderful."

Smiling, the helmsman laced his fingers behind the boy's back and leaned just enough away that he could take in the entirety of the beautiful creature perched in his lap that had caused him to come in his clothes for the first time since middle school. "Good," he said, the endorphins running through his system blocking the pain from what he knew was going to be a rather spectacular bruise on his jaw.

"Man, if I have known that's what they were talking about, I would have done that a long time ago," he Russian breathed, resting his hands lightly on Sulu's chest.

"Done what a long time ago?" Sulu asked, blinking at the completely content expression that danced over the boy's face.

The Russian shook his head, a wistful smile dancing over his lips. "Had an orgasm. That was... wow," he replied dreamily, shocking Hikaru so thoroughly that his hands went numb and slid from around the boy's body and thumped to the decking underneath him.

Now he was definitely going to hell, though it had been heaven getting there.

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Thank you to everyone who has put my story on their favorite's list or their alerts. :) Your reviews make me want to keep going. I'd also like to give a big thanks to my Beta for helping me to keep my story as realistic as it can be. Kami, you rock!

Review, let me know what you think. I do read them and take them into concideration when I'm writing.

Thanks!

Lee


	19. Chapter 19

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, Patrick Stewart, or Leonard Nimoy, to name a few of my favorite things. What I do own is the Preator, who isn't bad for a consolation prize, and my plot. :)

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.

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Spock stared at the hanging on his wall, trying to clear his mind in preparation for the meditation. Despite his best efforts, the strong tension that was coming from his bond mate kept intruding on the peace that he sought. He took another deep breath, shifting and trying to take a traditional meditative pose.

When he realized how he was sitting, he immediately shifted off of his knees. He'd knelt for hours in the Preator's presence, and he wasn't ever prepared to do it in front of anyone again. Sighing with the realization that he wasn't going to be able to quiet his mind enough to meditate, he pushed up off the floor of his quarters and made his way towards his bedroom.

As much as he hated the thought, it would be easier to meditate after he'd seen his human bond mate in their shared mental world. He allowed himself a small half smile as he thought of the human's reaction to his barren landscapes. Kirk constantly complained about the lack of foliage, the frigid temperature that neither of them ever really felt, and the constant night. As he worked the fastenings on his robe, he thought of where he would take the human tonight.

Maybe he'd put them somewhere on the surface of Mars? The red soil, the complete lack of any type of life, and the beautiful view of the stars completely unimpeded by a thick atmosphere would sooth Spock's mind almost as much as the human's presence.

Tugging off his robe and laying it carefully over the back of his chair, the Vulcan padded over to the bed and sank down onto its soft surface. He slipped between the warm blankets and sighed as he closed his eyes. It was easier to command himself to sleep when he knew that Kirk was waiting for him, but Spock refused to look too closely at the reasons why.

The warm, nearly tropical breeze blew through his hair as he blinked away the bright sunshine. A beautiful, nearly aquamarine sea rolled towards the powder soft sand that tickled Spock's bare feet as he walked towards the shore. The constant wind pressed his robes tightly against his legs and caused the palm trees and smaller shrubs to sigh softly. The warmth of the sun seeped through the thick cloth, relaxing the muscles along Spock's shoulders and back as he stepped towards the shore and the human that was waiting for him.

The sight of a familiar form laying on the beach made his heart speed up slightly before he forced himself to calm down. He walked over to the man and stood over him for a few seconds, allowing himself a silent perusal of the Captain's strong, handsome features.

"You're in my light. If I get a tan line from your shadow, I'm going to be slightly miffed," the man replied without opening his eyes. His body was completely relaxed as he reclined on a towel that was printed with pictures of turtles performing various positions from the human Kama Sutra.

Stepping back, Spock looked around the tropical beach that was fairly humming with life. "Where are we?" he asked, tilting his head and looking back towards the Captain. This was not the Martian landscape that he'd had in mind when he'd gone to sleep.

The human gave a very put upon sigh before he brought one hand up to shield his eyes. "Like I have any idea? You're the one who controls all of this. I'm just along for the ride," he replied, his tone distinctly grumpy as he waved his free hand towards the softly sighing ocean.

Raising an eyebrow at the disgruntled man, Spock sat back on the chair that seemed to appear behind him like magic. He steepled his hands and tried to keep his eyes from wandering over the man in front of him. Kirk's bare chest shone slightly with sweat, the swimming trunks that the man was dressed in ridding low enough on his hips to give Spock a hint of the hip bones that he'd felt pressed against him once upon a time.

The Vulcan couldn't help the small surge of lust that rippled through him at the sight of his bond mate's nearly naked body.

"If you don't stop that, I'm going to do something that we're both going to regret," Kirk mumbled as he rolled over on the towel to give his back a chance to get an equal tan. He cracked one eyelid to stare at Spock while adjusting his arms so that they pillowed his head.

"Stop what?" Spock asked, tilting his head curiously.

"If you don't stop staring at me like I'm a steak... well, I guess in your case it would have to be a salad wouldn't it?" he asked, settling in and closing his eye again. "Although, I wouldn't mind if you tried to eat me."

Embarrassment washed through him as he realized that the Captain was right. He had been ogling, for lack of a better word, the man in front of him. Though having Kirk sense it so quickly and accurately... But it was natural for him to feel that way about the man that he would be bonded to for the rest of his life. Pursing his lips, he looked out towards the sea and let the soft roar of the waves wash through him to calm the slight edge of darker emotions that had tried to work its way into his mind.

To take his mind off of the illogical shame and regret he felt, Spock looked around at the beauty surrounding them. The trees and bushes were magnificent, their colours varying from a deep, almost black green to a light jade that was rather impressive in a tropical plant. In the distance, the Vulcan's sharp eyes could pick out various blossoms dotting the landscape. Maybe Jim had been right about trees not being such a bad thing?, he thought as he automatically catalogued the plant life that was represented.

Taking a deep breath, he felt butterflies start to flit through his stomach as he thought of reaching out for the human in front of him. He didn't know, though, if his relationship with the man was ready for that step. Licking his lips, he tried to quiet his body and mind so that he didn't give himself away with his wayward emotions. He could never shield very well from Kirk when it came to his more passionate emotions. The human himself was such a virile man that his mind was almost a magnet for Spock's libido.

With a groan, the human buried his face into the towel. "Spock!" he mumbled, fisting his hands in his hair and pulling gently. "You're driving me nuts!"

Before Spock could even blink, the human was on his feet and standing over the chair that he was occupying. Jim leaned down until his face was so close that the Vulcan could feel the soft brush of his breath as it feathered across his face. He ignored the irrational urge to flinch when Jim braced his arms on the arms of the chair he was sitting in.

"Jim?" he asked softly, feeling the frustration and concern that warred within the volatile man.

A small shiver ran through Kirk's frame as he closed his eyes. "Spock, I want you so bad it hurts," he said, his voice deep and rough with desire. "If you keep staring at me like that and picturing the things that you're picturing, I'm going to try to do something that I know you don't want to do. I'm trying to give you a chance to heal, but you're making it har- impossible."

Taking a deep breath, Spock leaned forwards and closed the distance between them. He gently pressed his lips to the human's, feeling Kirk's emotions dip and whirl violently as he reached up to cup his bond mate's cheek in his hand. Kirk groaned as he sagged slightly forwards.

When Jim's hands gripped the chair with enough force to crack the wood slightly, Spock felt a shiver of desire race through him. He sent his desire and need burning through their bond, letting his barriers drop and allowing the human into his mind. Though he wasn't sure if he was ready to consummate their bond, he was tired of being illogically scared of physical contact with Kirk. The human had proven time and time again that he didn't consider Spock in any way shape or form sullied or unclean because of his actions during his captivity. It was only in Spock's mind that the problem lay between them.

Just as he was reaching up to grab a hold of the human and deepen their kiss, he felt Kirk's mind rip away from his own as the human was awakened. Frustration and anger washed through their bond from the captain as Spock woke up as well. His breath was panting as he stared up at the ceiling in his quarters, wanting nothing more than to run down the halls and demand to know why he and his bondmate had been interrupted. He'd been so close to finally beating the anxiety that had been keeping him away from Kirk...

Curling his hands into the bed sheets; Spock closed his eyes and tried to get a grip on the anger that was bubbling up inside of him. With a growl of frustration that he wouldn't have allowed himself had he been around anyone else, the Vulcan threw his blankets off of his legs and swung them out to place his feet on the floor.

Standing, he was reaching for his robe when his comm panel started to beep softly.

"Spock here," he said, tapping the controls that were placed next to his bed. It was more of an effort than he would have thought to keep his voice calm and level.

"Spock, this is Jim. We've run into a problem down on the planet and I've got to head down there to deal with it. I need you and the other senior officers to get to the bridge ASAP," the Captain's rough, slightly grumpy voice came over the speakers.

Hearing his bond mate's irritation soothed Spock slightly and he nodded even though he knew the man couldn't see him. "I believe it goes against the regulations for a Captain to lead an away mission," he said, a teasing warmth trickling through his bond with the human.

The chuckle he got in return was enough to get his blood hot again, and Spock closed his eyes against the illogical urge to try to pull Jim through the comm.

"You can discuss it with me when I get back," Kirk said through the comm, his parting sounding more like a promise.

When the link cut off, Spock sat down on his bed again and hung his head. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and forced himself to ignore the niggling of doubt that was trying to push its way to the front of his mind. Kirk, once he knew what their bond was and how permanent it was, had never flinched away from him.

It was time to put the ghosts of the past year to rest and concentrate on the future that he knew he would have with Jim.

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Uhura plucked the ear set off of its usual spot and slid it over her ear, ignoring the background chatter that filtered in through her hearing. She was scanning the Klingon fleet for any transmissions when she caught a bit of background chatter coming from a Romulan ship near their border.

Tilting her head, she tapped her controls and filtered out the background noise that was being transmitted to her station from the array that had heralded the arrival of the Klingons. She caught a hint of a liquid, fluid language that seemed to cut effortlessly through the harsher Klingon.

Automatically, she hit the record button on her console even before she recognized the language as Romulan. Specifically, the Romulan spoken in the southern hemisphere where the Capitol of Romulus was. They were talking about how their flagship had been destroyed in a raid a day before and that it meant the Empire was going to war. Apparently, the leader of the military was still missing, presumed lost in action.

Her eyes widened as she realized that they were talking about the man that had kept Spock captive for so long.

Emotions tangled together as she listened to the two men finish their conversation. She copied the words onto a PADD and bit her lip. By all rights, she should give this to Spock as the duty officer, but on the other side... What effect it would have on his mental state, she had no idea.

Looking over her shoulder, she stared at the Vulcan as he sat in the command chair. His smooth, perfect features were set in lines of concentration as he coordinated with the ships launching from the surface. He looked completely in control, even content as he tilted his head and nodded at something a lightly blushing Chekov was saying.

They'd finally cleared up the misunderstanding with the colonists and they were now assisting in the evacuation of the people who wanted to leave. Some of them, no matter how reckless it had seemed to Uhura, had decided to stay and try to defend themselves against the Klingon attack. Kirk was still planet side, trying to convince more people to evacuate.

Pursing her lips, Uhura took a deep breath and repeated to herself, that it was her duty to do so. She pushed herself off of her chair and walked over to Spock. Handing the Vulcan the PADD, she watched carefully as his expression of mild curiosity turned to slightly horrified. He looked over at her, his human eyes filled with an emotion that even her years of training couldn't decipher.

"Is this accurate?" he asked, his voice full of strain.

Ignoring the slight to her skills as a linguist, she nodded. "I just decoded it myself," she said, reaching out and resting a hand on his sleeve.

When he nodded and handed the PADD back to her, she saw the way his hands trembled just slightly and wished that it had been anyone else on duty.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Be sure to note the time and transmission in the ship's logs. Also, send a copy of this to Admiral Pike marked Priority One," he replied smoothly, his face and voice locked down tightly.

Slightly confused by the pain she saw in his eyes, Uhura nodded. "Of course," she replied, walking back to her station and entering the date and time into the ship's log before she started to send the copy to the command.

As soon as she was in her seat, she blinked as a transmission from the planet came through.

"Kirk to Enterprise. Enterprise, please respond," the Captain's voice came over the speakers to the main bridge.

"Captain Kirk, this is the Enterprise," Spock replied, his voice normal to anyone except Uhura. Her sensitive ears could detect the soft undertones of strain beneath the normal words.

"Is everything okay up there?" the Captain asked, confirming Uhura's suspicion that the Captain and Spock's bond had gone deeper than anyone suspected.

"Yes, Captain. Everything is running smoothly. What is your ETA?" Spock asked, causing Uhura to turn in her chair and blink at the Vulcan.

It was almost like Spock was asking Kirk to come back, a very unusual gesture from the man. She'd never seen Spock lean on anyone for support. Even after his mother's death, an event that Uhura knew had affected him deeply; he'd never sought out openly a comfort of any kind.

Was he going to allow himself to use Jim Kirk as support?

The thought surprised her more than she'd thought it would. She'd been sure that Kirk's infatuation with her former lover would end when the first pretty Yeoman walked in front of him in a short skirt, but he hadn't even looked at anyone with anything other than professional courtesy since shortly before Spock had been taken. She would know; she heard all the gossip about their rather virile captain.

"I'll be finished up here within the hour," came the man's slightly worried voice.

"Affirmative. Spock out," the Vulcan said, cutting the transmission and steepling his hands.

Despite her best efforts not to, the young officer couldn't help noticing Spock's movements. She could hear him sigh softly, shift his weight at least once every four minutes, and tap his fingers on the arm of the chair when it was signalled that the last ship was away. It hurt more than she thought it would as she admitted that Spock was probably waiting for Kirk to come back.

When all of the crew had returned from the planet and the ship had set course for the next system, she glanced over at the man that she had been in love with since the first time she'd heard him speak in his class on subspace transmissions. Intellectually, she knew that what had happened hadn't been either of their faults, but her heart still ached for the loss of the relationship that she'd had with Spock.

Taking a deep breath, Uhura turned her attention back to the controls in front of her and pursed her lips. She loved Spock enough that she was glad that he was happy and safe. Leaning forwards she pressed the ear bud into her ear and concentrated on the faint signals that she was picking up from the Argos array.

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Kirk stepped off of the transporter pad and slapped Scotty on the shoulder. "Thanks, Scotty," he said absently, heading for the bridge without waiting for a reply. Something was wrong with Spock, and he needed to know what it was. The Vulcan's mind had abruptly disappeared from his a few hours ago, causing him to be a little sharper than he needed to be with the reluctant colonists.

Striding through the corridors, he forced himself to remain at a steady walk until he reached the bridge. The doors parted before him, revealing most of his senior staff still at their posts on a double shift despite the late hour. His eyes, though, were only for Spock as the Vulcan turned the command chair to face him.

Stepping forwards, Kirk started to reach for the man before he saw his eyes flare open slightly. He changed his hand's direction, resting it on the back of the command chair at the last second. Spock's obvious dislike for public displays of affection was slightly amusing. Sometimes he even found himself touching the man just to see the slight hint of irritation in the Vulcan's eyes, but with the wave of strong sorrow and regret he'd felt earlier he didn't want to push his Vulcan bond mate too hard.

"Report, Mr. Spock," he asked, shifting slightly when the ebony haired man stood to relinquish his command chair.

Stepping back, the Vulcan brought his hands behind his back and clasped them. "Everything is going as planned, Captain. The colonists have evacuated per Starfleet's orders. The fleet hasn't changed direction or speed according to our readings from the Argos array, so our timetable is holding steady. We are on route to the Rizarian System," the man reported, his voice as empty and emotionless as the vacuum of space that was held at bay with the metal skin of the ship they were commanding.

Nodding, Kirk rubbed the armrests of his chair. He glanced towards the lift when the doors opened and the Beta shift started to trickle in. Pushing himself out of his seated position, the human greeted and briefed the commander while all of his exhausted officers were relieved of their posts. They'd been working since the night before to help get all of the colonists that wanted to leave off planet, and Kirk could see the strain written on all of their faces.

Shaking hands with the man, he watched the dark haired Lieutenant Commander settle himself into the chair that meant so much to Kirk. Moving over to the lift, Jim was slightly startled when Spock slipped into the small space seconds before the doors slid shut.

"Spock," he said, pleasantly aware of the man's scent in the closed space. Spock had just a hint of the spicy, exotic incense that he used to meditate with that always seemed to mingle with the natural pheromones that he gave off.

Nodding, the Vulcan pressed the buttons that would take them to Kirk's floor. "If I may, I would like to discuss something of a personal nature with you," the man said, clasping his hands behind his back.

With a slightly puzzled slant to his features, the human nodded. "Of course, Spock. You can always talk to me about anything," he replied. A small part of him danced with joy that the Vulcan was talking to him and not to Uhura about whatever it was. A small, niggling doubt in the back of his mind wondered if maybe it was Uhura that they were going to talk about.

It would have been strange after the time that they'd just spent on the man's mental beach, but he couldn't figure out what else would make the Vulcan uneasy enough to come with him to his quarters. As the silence continued through the halls, he concentrated on taking steady breaths. It would be just his luck that the first actual relationship he tried in nearly five years result in getting himself dumped.

Trying to figure out how to bow out of the situation gracefully without revealing any of his inner turmoil to the man who could almost read his mind was going to be tricky, but somehow Kirk knew he would have to manage. At least it would be better than trying to deal with Spock and the Preator. This would be a willing relationship with a person that the human knew would care for his bondmate.

Pursing his lips, Kirk opened his room and walked in. Ignoring the slightly lived in look to his quarters, Kirk sat down on the couch and motioned for Spock to sit as well. "So what's on your mind, Spock?" he asked, taking a deep breath and readying himself for the blow that he prayed wasn't going to come.

When Spock sat on the couch next to him, Kirk blinked slightly in surprise. Normally, the man kept the distance between the two of them no matter where they were. For him to even sit this close was unusual and slightly unnerving. The blood started to rush through Kirk's body, warming him from the inside out.

Without warning, Spock suddenly leaned forwards and captured Kirk's lips in a soft but never the less passionate kiss that left the human stunned for a second before his instincts kicked in and he was kissing the Vulcan back. He reached up and gently cradled Spock's face in his hands before he pulled away just slightly, unnerved by the tension and nervousness that was leaking past his bondmate's mental shields.

"Spock?" he asked softly, trying to ignore the hormones that were beating at him.

"Let's at least make the attempt," Spock said, his eyes pleading with the human in front of him.

Before he could ask what the Vulcan wanted to try, the barrier keeping Spock's emotions back cracked, then broke. A torrent of confusion, pain, lust, and guilt came rushing into his mind so fast and hard that he was gasping for breath. He looked at the officer in front of him as the emotions beat at his mind.

"What's wro-" he started, only to be cut off by Spock's insistent kiss.

'Nothing's wrong,' the man's voice whispered in his mind as Kirk felt nimble fingers slide up his thighs to the hem of his shirt.

Closing his eyes, Kirk tried to fight the lust that was building in his body. He gently tugged on the Vulcan's hands, surprised when they wouldn't budge. The talented fingers smoothed over his stomach to his back where they started to trace the muscles beneath Kirk's shirt. A soft moan escaped the Captain's lips only to be captured by Spock's fierce kiss.

"Spock," Kirk groaned, trying and failing to keep his hands from reaching for the Vulcan's almost hot skin. He balled his hands into fists, determined not to take advantage of the wounded man. There wasn't a request in the universe that he could refuse his bondmate if Spock asked him, but he was worried that the Vulcan was doing this just to keep him happy and not out of a real desire for intimacy.

In answer to the man's thoughts, Spock shifted and grabbed Kirk's hands. He gently worked the tight fists loose, lacing their fingers together and Kirk caught a wave of desire so strong that he groaned.

'I want you, Jim,' Spock whispered through Kirk's mind as he pressed their mouths together, inflaming his desire even more.

Surrendering to what seemed to be the inevitable, Jim moaned. He broke their kiss and panted as he stared into the Vulcan's nearly black eyes. Standing, he toed off his boots and reached for his bondmate. He didn't miss the way Spock gave a slight flinch before he took gently grasped the human's outstretched hand.

"Not on the couch," he said, wanting to make sure that Spock felt as respected as he could manage. Gooseflesh rose on his arms as the man stood and tugged on his hands. He'd been prepared to wait for months, possibly years, to be close to his bondmate. If Spock wanted to try this with him, he was more than willing.

Letting the Vulcan lead him into his room, Kirk gave a small, fleeting through to the mess that his quarters had become in the nearly two weeks that Spock had been back. All thoughts were pushed from his mind as the Vulcan grabbed the hem of the blue science tunic and the black undershirt that was adorning his slim frame and pulled upwards to reveal the smooth, lean muscles of his stomach and chest.

Fighting his naturally dominant nature, Kirk licked his lips and held a restraining hand out to stop the upward progress of the man's clothing before it reached the brand that Kirk knew was still on his upper torso. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, trying to give Spock one last chance to back out. He knew himself well enough to be aware of the fact that there was a point that he couldn't cross and they were getting there dangerously close.

Raising one eyebrow, Spock nodded. "I would not have come to your quarters if it were otherwise," he said, his coldly logical voice snapping Kirk's eyes up.

When the human saw the hint of humour glinting in his bond mate's eyes, he smiled and tugged off his own shirt. There had been a second there, when he'd heard Spock's voice that he'd been worried. His eyes dilated as the Vulcan finished stripping off his shirt. Even with the Preator's mark marring the perfection that was his bond mate's body, Spock was beautiful. Gently, he trailed on finger down the man's arm, feeling the gooseflesh that was dotting his skin.

Feeling like a teenager all over again and not the Captain of the Federation's flagship, Kirk licked his lips and stepped forwards until he could feel the heat radiating off of his partner's chest. He wanted Spock so badly that his entire body hurt with the desire thrumming through him.

Tension that had nothing to do with the rampant hormones raging through both of their bodies started knotting Spock's shoulders as Kirk's naked skin pressed against him. He watched as Spock closed his eyes and felt the Vulcan withdraw from his mind slightly as he pushed the darker emotions down and away from his psyche.

Giving the Vulcan a warm, accepting smile, Kirk moved his hands away from the pants that he so desperately wanted to strip from Spock's body. He cupped the warmth of his bond mate's face securely between his hands and kissed him softly before he stepped back.

He knew that Spock felt desire for him, but he could feel the hesitation that was killing the mood for his Vulcan lover. In what was probably the most difficult thing he'd ever had to do, Kirk forced himself to turn away from the beautiful man standing half naked and mostly willing in his quarters. He took a step back and moved over towards the wall on the far side of the room so that he didn't prove himself less noble than he wanted to be by leaping on Spock and taking him on the floor of his quarters.

The officer still wasn't ready for that level of physical intimacy yet, but maybe there was still a way for him to ease Spock into it.

"Do you have a preference for sides or can you sleep on either?" he asked, walking over to his dresser and opening the drawers until he found a pair of pyjama pants that he hadn't wore since his first week at the Academy. He figured that if he slept in more clothing than usual, he'd be less likely to start something in his sleep

Stunned silence was his only answer as confusion washed through his mind from the Vulcan. He swiftly shucked his uniform pants and pulled on the soft cotton before he turned around to face the man that he was still burning for. The confusion written on his normally astute first officer's face made Kirk snort with half-choked laughter as he tied the drawstring to his pants.

"I believe I'm missing something," Spock said, his dark eyes blinking at Jim with unabashed curiosity.

Even though he could read Spock's frustration through their bond, he could also feel the relief that confirmed his decision.

With a sigh, Kirk padded past the Vulcan and resisted the urge to throw him to the ground a la caveman style. He concentrated on the environmental control panel as he tapped out the command that would raise the temperature in the room to make the nearly shivering man more comfortable.

"Look, Spock, I'm not going anywhere. I know you want to get things back to normal as quickly as possible, but I think we should take it slow. I'm not going to do this and then have you feel bad about it later," he said, turning to face the stoic man. "Besides the fact that I can feel you fighting a flinch every time I go a little too far, it's been a long day for both of us."

When he felt Spock pull back slightly, Kirk stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around the man's waist. He pulled the slightly resisting man against his body, burying his face into Spock's neck and splaying his hands on the man's lower back. As the Vulcan's arms slowly wrapped around his body, he felt the guilt break through the man's mental walls.

Sighing into the fragrant skin that he wanted to devour so badly that he swore he would have a permanent case of blue balls, Kirk shook his head. "No," he said, pulling away slightly and smiling at the Vulcan. "It's not like that. I'm not ashamed of you, what you did, or anything. I just want to make sure that it's the best time for the both of us. We have time, Spock, plenty of time."

"Thank you," Spock said, his dark eyes shining with a soft emotion that made Kirk's heart beat faster and his stomach flip.

Nodding, Kirk motioned towards the bed with his head. "Come to bed. I'm worn out," he said, fighting back a yawn even as he spoke.

Without further protest, the Vulcan nodded and sat on the edge of the bed to carefully remove both of his boots and set them neatly next to each other on the floor. When he removed his uniform pants to reveal the simple black boxers underneath, Kirk had to bite his lip and busy himself with tugging the blankets straight to keep from molesting him despite all the good intentions.

As he lay back, he felt the bed dip under Spock's weight as the Vulcan lay back next to him. A sense of peace washed through him before he rolled over and gently rested his hand on his bond mate's waist. When the ebony haired man scooted back a few inches to press himself against Kirk's chest, the human felt his heart squeeze with joy at the trust Spock was putting in him. He knew how much the man hated to be touched, especially since he'd been back.

"Good night, Jim," Spock said, his voice soft and sleepy.

Yawning softly, Kirk let his arm drop over the man's waist. He shifted slightly and smiled. "Good night, Spock," he said, closing his eyes and drifting off to the soft sound of the Vulcan's deep, even breaths.

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I'd like to say thank you to my Beta, Kami, for bearing with me on this chapter more than any other. It was REALLY hard to work this one out of the depths of my warped brain, and my muse is on vacation in Mexico somewhere, the little Jive Turkey. He didn't take me with him, so you'll have to comfort me with the knowledge that his absense hasn't made my writing suck. :D

Let me know what you think! I love to hear from all of you!

Thanks!

Lee


	20. Chapter 20

With the last colony warned and the fleet on the way, Kirk set a course back towards the Klingon boarder. His solemn face matched the serious mood of the officers around him. He stared out at the stars in front of him, trying to figure out how he was going to wrestle his way out of the predicament that they were in.

In one corner of his mind, he was cataloguing everything that they had on the ship in an attempt to try to find something that they could use to augment their offensive power. When they'd left Starbase 12, they hadn't been counting on facing down an entire fleet of Klingon warbirds. Due to the shortage of supplies, they hadn't been armed to the teeth in the first place.

Another part of his mind was conscious of the officers and sounds around him, watching for any signs of strain or fatigue. It had been a hard week for them all, even the more experienced senior staff. Due to the leaps and bounds that his relationship with Spock had been making, even he was feeling the strain.

Glancing at Sulu, Kirk paused. The helmsman was hunched over in his seat, his face set in a tense mask that almost rivalled Spock's for its absence of emotions. He watched as the teenage boy next to him glanced over nervously, shifted in his seat, opened his mouth, closed it, and then looked back at his instruments. Curious, he stared for a few minutes as the pair repeated the performance.

At the warmth that preceded his bondmate's approach, Kirk glanced up as Spock walked over to him. He immediately felt the tension that had been knotting his shoulders ease as the Vulcan stepped next to his chair and handed him a data PADD. Glancing down, Kirk browsed the sensor data that was carefully laid out for him. Biting his lower lip, he looked up at his First Officer and bondmate.

When the normal emotions that he felt through their bond shifted from mild interest to a spike of desire, Kirk let his full lower lip slowly slide out from in-between his teeth. Ignoring the matching rise of hormones that surged through his blood, the human smiled at Spock.

"Will they be passing through this nebula, or skirting it?" he asked, indicating the data on the said fragment of space that he was holding.

"I believe that the majority of their force will choose to avoid it. It is, after all approximately two days from their current location at maximum warp," Spock replied, his voice normal and flat.

Excitement that had nothing to do with the man next to him started to course through Kirk's veins just as the doors opened and Beta shift came on to relieve the senior staff.

Kirk pushed himself out of his chair and headed for the lift, letting the information that he'd just received flow through his mind as he felt the beginnings of a plan forming in his brain. His relief looked refreshed and ready to go, so he handed over the big chair before heading towards the lift.

When the doors slid open, he stepped in just ahead of Chekov and Sulu. The pair was standing about three feet apart, not looking at each other. Kirk blinked at the tension that he felt radiating off them; the two had seemed to be becoming friends over the past few months...

He leaned against the back of the lift, tilting his head as he caught Chekov glancing at Sulu out of the corner of his eye before his shoulders slumped slightly.

'Aha,' Kirk thought, feeling sorry for the boy's case of unrequited love. At least he knew that his feelings were returned for the most part. When the lift stopped on his floor, Kirk nodded to the pair and got off the lift. He headed towards his quarters to shower and change before he met Spock for dinner.

Last night they'd slept next to each other, their bodies fitting together so perfectly that it had seemed to Kirk that they were made for it. He'd woken with the Vulcan's scent in his nose and the brush of the man's sleeping mind against his own. It had felt more right than anything he'd ever experienced.

He shook his head and tapped the panel that would open his door, stepping in and quickly stripping. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the mushy feelings that were running through him into the back of his mind. No matter how right it had felt to him, Spock had still been slightly disoriented when he'd woken up somewhere other than his quarters. His bondmate still had a long way to go before he would be able to open up, but Kirk was determined to help him on that road no matter how trivial the task.

Besides, he needed to discuss the plan forming in his mind with his First Officer. Spock was a brilliant man, and his input would be vital to the success of what he was considering.

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Spock tugged the fastenings of his Vulcan robes in place seconds before the door to his quarters chimed. He strode quickly across the door, feeling a rush of nervous excitement flutter through him. Spock hit the button that would let his bondmate into his quarters.

"I just had this wicked idea," Kirk said without preamble as he stepped into the room carrying two trays. He set them down on the coffee table and flopped down on the couch and grinned at the Vulcan.

Raising an eyebrow, Spock sank gracefully to the couch and eyed the vegetables that were arranged on his plate. They looked slightly better than his normal fare, but not by much. "Please explain," he requested, raising an eyebrow at the Captain who was practically radiating smug contentment and peace.

Kirk took a sip of the clear liquid that had come with his tray before he started. "Look, the fleet has to pass through that nebula, right?" he said, turning to face the Vulcan on the couch that they were sharing.

"Not necessarily," Spock said, the wheels of his mind turning. "The fleet will mostly likely skirt the nebula."

Leaning forwards slightly, Kirk's blue gaze focused in on the Vulcan with an almost unnerving concentration. "But what if we can get them into the nebula? It's thicker than pea soup in there and their sensors won't work. If we can take out even a fourth of their fleet, it could delay them long enough for our ships to get here."

Looking thoughtful, Spock picked up his fork and took a bite of his dinner. Kirk was momentarily distracted from the plans that he was making by the sight of the utensil as it disappeared into the soft, lush lips that he could picture wrapped around his-

"Cap-Jim?" the Vulcan asked, raising one eyebrow in bemusement at the sudden turn of the human's emotions.

Shaking his head, Kirk picked up his own fork. "What could we use as a decoy, though? Obviously the Enterprise wouldn't constitute a threat that would draw enough of the fleet to be of any use," he questioned, taking a deep breath to quell the desire that was simmering beneath the surface. They'd already made it clear that Spock wasn't ready yet, but Kirk's impatient hormones were making it slightly difficult.

After taking a sip of the juice that had been brought with his meal, Spock tilted his head in thought. He was just about to reply when there was a beep from his comm panel.

Standing and walking over to the wall, Spock gently tapped the command that would open a channel. "Spock here," he replied, his voice as calm and serene as it always was.

"Commander, we have a priority one transmission from Starfleet for the Captain," the duty officer said.

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Kirk pushed himself up and walked over to the unobtrusive black box on his wall. "Kirk here," he said briskly, glancing at Spock out of the corner of his eye.

"Sir, Admiral Pike is on the line," came the unfamiliar voice over the speakers.

Feeling his stomach twisting slightly, the Captain's shoulder's sank slightly with relief. When he looked to his First Officer for understanding and got the Vulcan's nod, he gave him an apologetic look. "Put him through to Spock's quarters," he ordered, walking over to the desk and flipping on a small desktop console.

When the screen lit up, he sank into the chair and smiled at the cause of his enlistment. "Admiral, I hope this is good news," he greeted, hope blooming in his chest.

"It's good to see you, too," the man said, his small smile making Kirk's heart leap in his chest. It was very good news if the normally serious man was letting amusement curve his lips. "You're right, Jim. We've got some good news for you."

Leaning back in the chair slightly, Kirk felt relief flood his veins. It was so potent that for a few seconds, he felt like he was floating. "Is the fleet closer than we expected?" he asked, fighting the urge to look over his shoulder at Spock.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it over subspace. I'm sending you a set of coordinates. It's not far from your present location, and at maximum warp, it should only take you about a day to get there. Sorry I can't tell you more, but we're worried about more than you know about here," the Admiral said, giving Kirk a serious look. "Just keep your ears open and don't judge a book by its cover."

Drawing his eyebrows together, Kirk blinked at the screen. He could feel the open and frank curiosity radiating from the Vulcan behind him, but he still kept himself from looking. "You can't give me any more specifics?" he asked, leaning forwards in his seat slightly.

Shaking his head, the man sighed. "You'll understand when you get there," he replied, reaching for the button that Kirk knew would end the transmission. "Oh and Kirk?"

Looking expectantly at the monitor, the Captain of the Enterprise waited. "Yes, Admiral?"

"Keep your temper in check," he replied. And with that parting comment, he ended the transmission.

Looking back at his First Officer, Kirk watched the Vulcan raise an eyebrow in confusion before he shrugged in a very human gesture that made the sandy haired man smile.

"I'm sorry, Spock. I've got to get this up to the bridge. Would you be able to eat a late dinner instead?" he asked, feeling really disappointed that he hadn't been able to eat a meal with his bondmate.

Standing, the ebony haired man walked forwards and brushed his fingers along the back of Kirk's hand. A feeling of acceptance and understanding rushed through Jim's mind, making him smile. He leaned forwards and let his lips gently feather over Spock's lush mouth for a few seconds.

"Let me change. I'll accompany you to the bridge. I want to run some scans using the Argos before we're out of range," Spock said, a hint of regret tainting the emotions that Kirk was receiving.

With a heartfelt sigh, Kirk nodded and watched as the Vulcan turned and headed back towards his sleeping area. The thought of the man stripping was enough to set Kirk's deprived hormones off into a firestorm of need that overpowered his good sense.

Before he knew it, he was following Spock into the small space that he'd come to know very well in the time that he'd spent here during his bondmate's extended absence. With a half smile curving his features, he watched the black robe slide off of Spock's trim shoulders only to be caught up by his dexterous hands.

Clad only in a loose pair of desert pants, the half human man padded over to the drawers that were recessed in the wall. When Kirk heard the soft but unmistakable sound of metal clinking together, he stepped up behind his bondmate and slipped an arm around his waist. He was leaning forwards to get a better look at the silver that he'd seen when the Vulcan snapped it shut. Despite the Vulcan's quick reflexes, though, Kirk had still recognised the silver bands that had marked his bondmate as a slave.

"I'll be just a moment," Spock said, the surprise streaked with guilt coming through their bond cutting off abruptly as the man sealed his mind away.

"What was that?" Kirk asked, trying to keep from pushing past the man and flushing those damn things out an airlock.

Staring into the human's eyes, Spock kept himself firmly positioned in front of his dresser. "It was nothing that you need to concern yourself with," the Vulcan replied evenly.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kirk bit back the angry response that automatically flew to his lips. He took a deep breath before he replied, determined to do as ordered and keep his temper. "Spock," he started, looking up into the man's troubled eyes. Stopping himself, he just sighed. It wasn't worth arguing over, no matter how much it hurt him personally that Spock had decided to keep mementoes from his time as a slave.

The human turned and walked to the door, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. He tapped the button to open the door gently. Looking over his shoulder he saw Spock standing in the doorway to his sleeping room, his posture perfect and his face completely blank and serene.

"I'll be on the bridge," he said, stepping into the brighter, cooler hallway and heading towards the command centre of the ship. Despite his measured walk, he had to fight off a growing sense of frustration. He hadn't questioned Spock's desire to keep the brand that marked him as a slave, ignored the demands of his own hormones so that he could be there for his bondmate, and all he'd asked for in return was a little bit of trust.

Taking a deep breath, he shook off his melancholy thoughts and stepped through the door to the bridge.

"Captain," the officer on duty said, standing and stepping aside to let him have his chair.

"At ease, Lieutenant. We've got orders from command to alter course and head for the Paxemp system. Specifically, the fifth planet," he said, waving the man back to his chair.

"Aye aye, Sir," the man said, nervously sinking back into the chair. He perched on the edge of it, and glanced at Kirk out of the corner of his eye.

Stifling a smile, the Captain turned and headed towards the lift. Having set his crew on their course, he was going to head to the gym and work off a little bit of his frustrations. Maybe the physical exertion would help him focus his mind and thoughts on more than just his problems with Spock.

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Sweat trickled down Kirk's back, cool drops caressing the smooth skin of the human's back as the muscles underneath it bunched and stretched. His breathing panted in and out as he stained towards his goal, closing his eyes for a brief second as the endorphins rushed through his system. Effortlessly, he kept his pace even and rhythmic, blocking out the worries of the world with the steady beat of his heart.

His eyes stared at the bulkhead in front of him, as he pushed himself past his normal run. If he doubled it, maybe he'd be too exhausted to dream tonight, therefore blocking out the Vulcan that he knew would want to talk. Frustration made the human push himself harder, turning up the controls on the treadmill until he was almost sprinting to keep up with the movement of the machine.

He panted, never breaking stride as he reached up and wiped the sweat that was threatening to run down his face and into his eyes. It wasn't like he'd ever given Spock any reason to mistrust him. Hell, he thought he'd reacted to this whole situation rather well. For a man who'd avoided commitment like the plague, Kirk thought that his reaction to the knowledge that he was now permanently bonded to a man that up until a few hours before their battle with Nero had disliked him enough to try and get him kicked out of Starfleet was more than understanding.

Panting out a huff, the human shook his head. Spock would have said that the idea that he disliked Kirk was illogical. He'd say that his feelings had nothing to do with his findings and that Jim was projecting.

When the treadmill beeped softly and started to slow down, Kirk let it. He'd just done twice his normal run, equating out to about fifteen miles, and his muscles were screaming messages of hatred at him. As the treadmill slowed to a stop, he stepped off and leaned over to rest his hands on his knees and pant in peace.

As he glanced up, he caught sight of Sulu doing a rather spectacular lunge. Grabbing his towel form off of the bar that he'd been running behind for about an hour now, he wiped the sweat off his face and watched his helmsman fend off imaginary foes with swift and deadly slashes.

After a particularly spectacular move, he tilted his head when Sulu froze mid stride. The Asian slowly pulled himself back up and reached up to rub his lower back with his face set in obvious lines of discomfort. Kirk felt terrible about the things that he'd seen when he'd rescued Sulu from the whorehouse that he'd been purchased for, but when Jim had offered comfort he'd been straightforwardly refused.

These days the only person that had managed to get close to his helmsman was the young Russian that worked with him every day.

"That was a really nice lunge," he said, still trying to catch his breath as he walked over to the mats where the young man was practicing.

"Captain," Hikaru said, standing and moving his hand away from his back.

Shaking his head, Kirk bounced slightly on his feet to keep the muscles of his legs loose. "We're not on duty. You don't have to call me Captain," he replied, a smile stretching his mouth.

Nodding, the young Asian relaxed slightly. "Thank you. I took first in the World Championships with that move," he said, a small grimace marring his mouth.

"I saw that one. That was you? Weren't you facing off with someone from the European Union?" he asked, his blue eyes missing no detail of the man's gait as he moved over to the bench where his paraphernalia was. Sulu was in pain, and trying to hide it.

"The old German sector. He was a few years older than I was, but I've been fencing longer," Sulu replied, sitting down and grabbing a rag to polish his already gleaming sword.

Nodding, Kirk sank down on the bench a few feet away. "That was some match. I'm glad you took him, though. I won forty credits off that match," he admitted, grinning at Sulu who gave him a weak smile in return. After they'd sat for a while, both of them catching their breaths, the Captain looked at his helmsman and sighed. "Sulu, are you alright? Really alright?"

The Hikaru's head snapped up and his gaze grew guarded as he leaned back. "I've been cleared for duty, haven't I?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Holding up his hands, Kirk nodded. "You have, and I'm glad that you have. It's just personal concern, not a professional inquisition," he replied, trying to sooth the man's ruffled feathers.

Looking down at his gleaming weapon, the Sulu shrugged. "I'm alright. It's hard, but then again, nothing's easy," he replied, rubbing out an imaginary spot midway down the blade.

Pursing his lips, the Captain nodded. "It seems like Chekov's bounced right back from the whole thing," he said, watching the Asian's face carefully. When he saw the man's face relax and even twitch into a smile, Kirk blinked. So it wasn't so unrequited after all...

"He's like a portable sun," Sulu said, glancing up before he looked back down. "And he makes a really good cup of tea."

Licking his lips and trying to keep from laughing at the young man, he nodded. "I bet," he said, leaning forwards until his forearms rested on his thighs. "Do you have tea with him often?"

With a sigh, Sulu nodded. "Just about every night for the past month," he admitted, looking at the far wall. "It's really good for aches and pains."

Tilting his head, he studied the man, watching the way he seemed to fidget. "I'm guessing that you didn't go and have tea today?" he asked, motioning towards the cold pack that was sitting on top of Sulu's work out clothes.

"It just isn't a good idea, not anymore" the Asian man said, folding up his blade before he tucked it into his bag. "Good night, Captain."

"Good night, Sulu," he replied automatically, watching the man walk out the door and shaking his head. 'Poor Chekov,' he thought with a sigh as he slid to the floor and started to stretch his exhausted muscles.

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Kirk leaned his chin in his hand, staring out the view screen and studiously ignoring everyone on the bridge. They'd been at the rendezvous point for three hours, and the waiting was starting to wear on the Captain. He shifted in his seat and sighed, before he decided that it was time for lunch.

"Mr. Spock, you have the bridge," he said, heading for the lift. He was just reaching for the button that would send him to the mess hall when he heard the Vulcan's voice call him back.

"Captain, I've got some unusual readings that I believe you'll want to see," the Vulcan's voice called to him.

Stepping out of the lift before it shut, the human man walked over to the science station. "What is it?" he asked, leaning forwards. He carefully kept himself from touching the Vulcan, knowing how Spock hated it when he did that in public.

Looking up, the ebony haired man shook his head subtly. "I'm not quite sure, Captain," he replied, indicating a section of space that seemed to fluctuate slightly. "It looks like a small singularity, but I'm unable to pinpoint its location."

Raising his eyebrows, he looked back towards the view screen. His eyes strained to see the small singularity that was drifting in front of them unseen by anything but their sensors.

Suddenly, he saw Chekov's shoulders tense. "Captain! I'm picking up a Klingon warbird de cloaking directly in front of us!" he called, making the entire bridge crew snap to attention.

"Raise shields! Red alert! All hands to battle stations!" he ordered, feeling his blood start to pump faster. The seconds seemed to slow as he felt the engines strain on a reverse course correction.

"Captain, we're being hailed! It's the warbird, sir," Uhura called over the noise of the bridge crew as they sprang into action.

"On screen," he replied, preparing himself for the onslaught of Klingonese that he knew would grate on his nerves.

When the view screen cleared, the entire bridge crew grew silent at the face that was staring back at them.

"What the hell?" Kirk whispered, staring at the face on the screen.


	21. Chapter 21

Title: Frozen

Disclaimer: If I owned Star Trek, I'd be able to work on my story more and my Beta wouldn't have to poke at me just to make sure I'm still living. :)

Rating: M

Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely; possibly others.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

Kirk felt his blood pressure spike as the face that appeared on screen smiled coldly at him.

"Captain Kirk," the Romulan man said, leaning back in the chair that looked slightly out of place behind the slim figure. "This is Commander Relix of the captured Bird of Prey Taj. I've been ordered by the Senate to assist you with the disposal of the Klingon fleet headed into Starfleet territory as per our agreement."

The human's face automatically assumed a pleasant, open mien as he looked at what had formerly been an enemy of the Federation. "Commander, it's good to see you," he said, feeling his natural suspiciousness creep to the surface. "If you could please transmit your authentication codes?"

The Romulan grinned at the human, signalling to his communications officer off screen. "So you're the legendary Kirk? I always thought you'd be taller," the Commander said, the expression of snide mirth on his face giving Kirk the willies.

It was so strange, seeing emotions run rampant across a face that looked so Vulcan. Kirk kept his composure though, shrugging and making his smile turn slightly sheepish. "You have me at a loss, Commander. I'm afraid I've never heard of you," he replied, feeling displeasure slip from Spock through their bond.

With his smile fading slightly, the Romulan's dark eyes started at the human man with a look that should have shot laser beams through the screen and make him nothing more than a grease spot on the commands chair. After glancing over at Uhura and getting a nod of confirmation, the Captain looked back at the man on the screen and smiled.

"I tell you what, though," Kirk said, reminding himself of his orders to behave. "Why don't you come for a dinner tonight? We can swap stories and strategise." He didn't really want to dine with Romulans, but if it was going to save the Federation, he'd have dinner with Satan himself.

Commander Relix scowled but nodded. "At 1830 standard time?" he asked.

Kirk grinned and nodded. "1830 it is, Commander. I look forward to seeing you face to face. Kirk out." he said, motioning to Uhura to cut the connection. The human turned and looked at his bridge crew, feeling the tension shift in the air from a slight hint of hopelessness to a feeling of nervous anticipation.

He looked back at Spock, knowing without a doubt that he'd find the Vulcan's eyes on him. He felt the smile slide from his face and a more serious expression take over. It felt like there was a huge rift between the two of them that was growing by the day and he had no idea how to cross it.

"Captain," Chekov said, his voice rising above the chatter that had started. "I have two ships headed towards our position. It's the Neptune and the Sturass."

'This day just went from bad to good to better,' Kirk thought, looking over at Uhura. "Hail them, Lieutenant," Kirk said, almost giddy with excitement.

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Spock clasped his hands behind his back, face a serene, blank mask. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Dr. McCoy and Uhura, Jim having taken the lead. He looked at the human's back, feeling his contained excitement. The man's mind was clear and focused as the transporter started to hum, all of the doubt, worry and emotions were pushed to the back of his psyche as he smiled and stepped forward.

Taking his cue from the Captain, Spock let his expressionless face relax as he waited with the rest of the senior staff. They'd made a good decision when they made Kirk the captain of the Enterprise. The man had an inner core of steel that seemed to provide him with an inexhaustible supply of strength.

"Commander Relix. Welcome to the Enterprise," Jim said, an easy smile warming his face as he held out his hand to the pointy eared alien that was about six inches taller than him.

The Romulan seemed to think about it for a few seconds before he returned the gesture, clasping his hand with Kirk's. He looked straight into the human's eyes, his own expression a mixture of curiosity and animosity.

"Please, let me introduce my staff," Spock's bondmate said, releasing the man's hand and turning to the side so that the Romulan could see the waiting officers; without turning his back on an alien that was twice as strong as he was. "This is my First Officer, Commander Spock, my Chief Medical Officer Lieutenant Commander Leonard McCoy, my Chief Communications Officer Lieutenant Uhura, and my Chief Engineer Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott."

During the introductions, the three officers behind the Romulan commander seemed to focus in on Spock, making the Vulcan want to squirm slightly under their close scrutiny. He kept his chin high and his posture straight though; not willing to show any type of discomfort in front of the Romulans. Next to him, he felt Uhura shift slightly on her feet, bringing her hip just slightly closer to the Vulcan, a show of support that bolstered Spock's sense of self-awareness.

Commander Relix nodded to each of them in turn before turning to introduce his staff. "This is my First Officer, Sub Commander Mekal, my Weapons Officer Rafan, and my Chief Engineer Svato," he said, indicating each officer as they were introduced.

The Captain nodded and motioned towards the door, commanding the situation effortlessly. "Please, let's continue this discussion over dinner," he said, leading the group out of the room.

Spock waited to bring up the rear, letting the envoy from the other ship and most of the officers from his own ship leave before he started out. He ended up walking next to the Weapon's Officer from the other ship. He nodded to the man, keeping a pleasant expression on his face as he followed his Captain.

"It's an honour to meet you," the Romulan said as they walked, making Spock look over with a look of mild surprise on his face. "You are the Commander Spock that destroyed Nero's vessel, aren't you?"

Keeping his face carefully neutral, the Vulcan inclined his head. "I was able to assist the Enterpise in that task, yes," he replied humbly, knowing that without Kirk the entire mission wouldn't have been possible.

The man gave Spock a half smile, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "They haven't really released a lot of specifics on the entire situation toin the Empire," he replied as they walked along.

Knowing that the Senate had a tight grip on the media that the public was exposed to, the Vulcan inclined his head. "It was a challenging battle," he replied, as they entered the small dining room that was reserved for special guests.

Looking over, Rafan seemed to hesitate when he saw the quelling look that his Commander was giving him. He turned back to Spock, seeming to brace his spine as he looked the Vulcan in the eye. He kept his mouth shut, but his intense stare gave the Vulcan pause before Kirk's voice broke through the tension that had been building in the room.

"Enough about us," he said, his mellow baritone carrying effortlessly through the room. "Let's hear more about you and your crew."

Commander Tolomy took the seat that Kirk indicated at the opposite end of the table from him, each of them taking up a side of the table. Spock sat down on Kirk's right, Rafan claiming the seat next to him as the rest of the Romulan's claimed that side of the table, leaving the humans to sit on the opposite side. It made the Vulcan slightly uncomfortable to be sitting next to men that, by most untrained eyes, looked like him, yet were so different. Apart from the uniforms and the tattoos that decorated the faces of the Romulans, the man sitting next to him could be any other Vulcan citizen.

Three yeomen filed into the room, setting down a soup dish in front of the guests seated around the table. Spock looked down and was slightly disappointed to see the clear vegetarian broth with the chunks of vegetables floating in it. As everyone reached for their spoons, he took one of the rolls from the centre of the table and set it on the plate next to his bowl. He was getting very tired of bread.

"Tell me, Commander, how did you happen to come into a fleet of Klingon ships?" Kirk asked pleasantly, taking a sip of the beef soup that he'd been served.

Taking a spoonful of the soup, Tolomy smiled at the human. "We've been capturing Klingon ships for almost five years now. They are not easy to catch. Their commanders usually self destruct before you can board them," he replied, annoyance written over his face. "When you do manage to board them though, they fight to the last man. They're fierce warriors, but not necessarily brilliant strategists."

Kirk nodded, his blue eyes focused in on the Romulan. "I've noticed that. I wonder if we could use their predisposition towards self destruction against them during the fight," he said, his eyes automatically finding Spock's.

When their eyes met, Spock felt warmth trace through their bond as the human's emotions brushed against his psyche. Kirk looked away first, smiling at the Commander at the opposite end of the table, but the warmth stayed with the Vulcan as he relaxed his mental shields slightly.

"Whenever we get into a fight with the Klingons, we try to isolate them one at a time and then destroy them when we have the tactical advantage. I don't believe those tactics would work with a fleet of the size that we are planning to battle with," the Romulan replied, taking a sip of the blue beverage that the mess hall had selected to go with the meal. His tattoos added a slightly sinister aspect to his face as he frowned slightly.

The yeomen that had served the soup came out and removed the bowls, replacing them with a veal in Parmesan. Spock looked down at his plate, seeing the attempt at eggplant parmesan and sighing. He missed the cafes and restaurants of his home planet where one never had to settle for a substitution. There was never a time that he had to be careful about what he ate, because there was never any meat to be found.

"Spock, won't they be passing by the Nebula in a day or so?" Kirk asked, looking over at his First Officer.

The Vulcan nodded. "Indeed. If we can get them into the Nebula, then we might be able to isolate them. We'd have to coordinate our vessels very carefully," he replied, looking over the assembled officers so that his eyes didn't linger on the Captain's face.

"What kind of Nebula is it?" Svato asked quietly, his deep bass completely at odds with the slender body that his uniform hung on. It looked like the man had just recovered from a serious illness. His skin was pale and hanging on him slightly, the shadows under his eyes making them look much bigger then they really were.

"It's a class five Nebula," Spock replied, taking a small bite of the delicious roll that he'd been savouring.

Nodding, the engineer looked over at his Commander. "It should be enough to confuse the Klingon sensors. Unfortunately, it's also enough to confuse ours as well. We'll be flying blind," he said, taking a small bite of his meal.

Scotty took a deep draw of his blue drink before he spoke. "We could modify some of the probes that we have on board to act as homing beacons. It won't be a perfect fix, but should keep us from blowing each other out of the sky," he said, looking around at the officers. "Though, if the Klingons catch on to what we're up to, it could become a lot more interesting. What kind of fire power are you packing on those War Birds?"

All of the Romulans looked to the Commander Tolomy nodded to his subordinate, indicating that the young officer should answer the question.

"We've got some special modifications to our phaser banks that increase the power as well as a full payload of photon torpedoes," he replied, looking at Scotty for only a second before his eyes seemed drawn to Spock.

"Aye, that should do it," he said, taking another bite and chewing quickly. "Depending on the timing and the Klingons themselves, we should be able to blow a hole in their fleet that will let us push them back into the Klingon space.

Kirk looked over at Spock, smiling at him and making the Vulcan's heart skip a beat as warmth made the human's blue eyes even bluer. Shaking off the slight flutter the man made rise in his stomach, Spock looked down at his food, sending a warmth along their bond that he hoped the man received.

When their plates were taken away and a small dish of pudding was set in front of them. Inwardly, Spock cringed back from the human confection. It wasn't just any pudding. It was Tapioca pudding. Keeping his composure, the Vulcan picked up the spoon that had been set on the plate next to his dish. He'd tried the desert once and had developed an instant dislike to it's chewy, chunky texture.

He set down his spoon, keeping his posture as the Romulan next to him eyed him with interest. Looking over, he saw Uhura wince in sympathy before she looked down and poked at the desert.

"This is an interesting desert, Kirk. What is it called?" the Commander of the alien troops asked, smiling and chewing on the unfamiliar pudding

Finishing off his, Kirk leaned back in the chair and sipped his blue ale. "It's called pudding. Tapioca to be exact," he replied, smiling at the Romulan and waiting until they were all finished before he pushed himself back away from the table. "Gentlemen, thank you for a wonderful evening. I believe that we need to set course for the Nebula if we're going to get our ships in place and beat the Klingons."

The Romulans pushed away from the table almost as one. They started towards the door, Kirk leading the way even as the Starfleet officers started to follow behind the group.

"I must admit, Kirk, you do set a fine table," the tattooed leader said as he started out the door.

Spock dropped back slightly, letting most of the people file out before he followed, ready for the night to be over. He wanted to return to his quarters and shower to rid himself of the grime of the day. As he was mentally putting himself in the shower, he felt a soft brush against his hand. Pulling his limb away from whoever had touched him, he looked over to see the Romulan Weapons Officer.

"I'm sorry, Commander Spock. Please," the man said, his face tight with worry. He slipped a disk into the Vulcan's hand and quickly stepped away, picking up his pace until he was following right behind his Commander.

Blinking curiously after the Weapon's Officer, Spock held the disk in his hand. Whatever was on it, it was obvious that the man hadn't wanted the other Romulans to see it. As they beamed away, he turned to the Captain and gently touched the man's sleeve as he started to leave.

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Kirk flopped down onto the large overstuffed chair in his quarters and motioned towards the couch across from him. "Please, have a seat," he said, keeping his expression open. When he'd answered the chime to his door and found Spock on the other side, he'd been shocked. He didn't know what to expect from the man. He wanted to think that the Vulcan was here to demand that Kirk strip off the robe that he was wearing and take him then and there, but he doubted that the sex he had in mind was the reason for the man's visit.

As if he sensed the man's thoughts – a distinct possibility; Spock's colour deepened slightly. "Before the Romulans were beamed off the ship, the Weapons Officer handed me this disk," he explained, setting the flat item down on the table between them.

All thoughts of the Vulcan's nude body disappeared from Kirk's mind as he looked at the disk. He turned it over and over in his hands before he handed it back. He knew that Starfleet wouldn't want the man to have this, but his own curiosity was peaked. "Let's see what he gave you," he replied, moving over to the console that sat next to the doorway to his room.

Spock sat down in the chair at Kirk's urging, the posture feeling very familiar and comforting to Kirk as he leaned over the man's shoulder. His robe gaped slightly, giving the Vulcan an eye full of his strong, muscular chest with its light dusting of chest hair. As they waited for the information to boot up, he felt their bond grow stronger, the desire that Spock felt pushing at him.

Looking down, Jim caught the Vulcan's eyes and leaned forward. He pressed their lips together without thinking, gently working them together. Instantly, he felt Spock's presence in his mind grow until it eclipsed everything else. When the man under him moaned, Jim's hand on the chair tightened. He kissed the raven haired man harder, the spicy, exotic taste of his First Officer making his blood pound through his system.

He was just about to turn the chair and grab the man's uniform to rip it off when there was a soft beep and the screen lit up. Spock broke away from the Captain, his breathing harsh in Kirk's ears as the thrum of his desire beat at the human's mind through their bond. It had been almost a year since the last time Jim had been intimate with anyone, and with Spock so close he was finding it hard to concentrate on anything except the burning in his blood.

"Jim, look," Spock said, his voice rougher than usual due to the heat he could feel coming from both of them.

Kirk looked over and blinked, trying to push his desire to the back of his mind. He tried to focus, his mind getting much clearer when he saw what was displayed on screen.

They were the technical readouts of the Klingon War Birds including their ammunitions and the special mods that had been made to the phasers of the ships.

Jim felt the Vulcan's eyes on him and he turned, looking at Spock.

He knew that the Vulcan was under suspicion of treason, but the fact that Spock was here with the disk in his hand was just the icing on the cake in his book. If he were even thinking about betraying the Federation, Spock wouldn't have come to him like this. He would have kept the disk hidden, or analyse it first himself before showing it to Kirk.

Leaning on the back of the chair, Kirk caught a hint of the spicy, exotic scent that seemed unique for his First Officer. He tried to ignore the heat in his own blood, but when he felt the tension that was running through Spock, it only seemed to make things worse.

"Jim," Spock said, shifting in the chair so that his face was inches away from the human's.

Kirk looked down, his brilliant blue eyes clashing with Spock's as he felt their breaths mingle. He started to lean forward slowly, unable to fight the magnetic pull that he felt. Their lips would mingle perfectly, he knew. The bond between them would make their desire flame hotter and hotter until they wouldn't be able to resist anymore.

An soft beep from the console pulled his attention away from his bondmate, snapping the tension between them like an over stressed rubber band. He looked away and blinked at the new tactical information that was being displayed on the screen. It wasn't just the movements of the Klingon War Birds that had been assigned to the fleet. It also looked like the troop movements for the Romulan fleet for the next six months.

When a program started scrolling across the screen, Kirk looked to his science officer for answers.

"It looks like a decryption algorithm for transmissions. Captain, these codes are Romulan," he to the human's unspoken question.

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Kirk looked out at the beautiful, swirling colours of the Nebula. The blues and greens were soothing in a vague way, reminding him of the time he'd gone down in an old fashioned submarine back on Earth. Next to his ship, he knew, there was a fleet of Klingon War Birds manned by Romulans and two Federation starships.

Feeling the brush of his bondmate's mind on his own, Kirk looked up to see Spock coming over to him with a data PADD. His brilliant blue eyes looked up, meeting the dark, deep brown of his bondmate's. Spock's eyes were cautious, wary of his reception. Kirk's gut tightened as he felt the man's emotions through their bond.

"Captain," Spock said, handing him the portable piece of technology. "The fleet is ready. We have our decoys in place and are awaiting the Klingons."

Jim nodded and took the PADD, scanning the information for a second before he reached out and brushed his fingertips along the back of his bondmate's hand. He hated the lost, despairing emotions that he felt coming from the Vulcan's mind. Despite the fact that he was angry over Spock's inability to let go of the past year; he was also tired of fighting with the ghost of a man who wasn't even alive anymore. Sooner or later they would have to close that chapter if they wanted to have any future together.

"Thank you, Spock," he said, letting his fingers linger on the man's warmer than normal skin as he let the man into his mind.

Some of the tension that had been riding the Vulcan's features relaxed, his serenity seeming less forced as he nodded to the other man. "You're welcome," he said, letting a wave of warmth wash through their bond before he took his hand away and returned to his station.

Kirk looked over at Uhura, meeting her eyes and sighing inwardly with relief as he saw the acceptance written there. Things were finally starting to fall into place.

Now all he had to do was survive the next twelve hours.

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The overworked scientist whistled to himself as he handled the controls of his ship. He'd been out here in the dark, cold emptiness of space for the past thirteen months scanning for dilithium. All he'd managed to find so far had been rocks, rocks and more rocks.

Sighing and rubbing his eyes, the Romulan man pushed the hair away from his eyes. It had grown out, the now far longer than regulation locks giving him a slightly piratical air with his small rank tattoos dotting his face.

He absently searched an asteroid belt that he passed, debating on wither or not he should just abandon his post, take his ship back to Romulus, and turn in his commission. This was not the life that he and his wife had dreamed of when he'd joined the military.

A blip on the screen caught his attention and he swung around. Blinking at the metal that he'd caught with his sensors, the Romulan man carefully piloted his small ship through the asteroids. He slowed as he approached the long, coffin like piece of metal.

"It's an escape pod," he muttered, quickly tractoring it into his cargo hold and sliding down the ladder just as the doors to his cargo hold cycled shut. He slapped the panel that would open the pod and blinked when it flashed red. He tried again, this time being a little gentler with it.

When it still didn't open, the scientist raised both his eyebrows. He popped the panel on the side, typing in the code that the government had given him for this kind of security issues. The light on the side blinked green and the pod opened.

Grabbing the med kit he'd popped off the wall on the way down, the Romulan shoved open the lid.

His mouth dropped open as he saw the man inside the pod,

"Help me," the Preator said, his voice hoarse from the lack of water. His hand grabbed a hold of the low ranking scientist's coat, his grip surprisingly strong as he dragged the man down. "Sabotage..." The gold eyes of the Commander of the Romulan military fluttered shut as he sank back down into the pod.

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End file.
